Don't Ask Me Why
by LyingMonsters
Summary: Lukas Bondevik didn't expect the one time he met with a Danish artist to lead anywhere. By all means, it shouldn't have, but it's 1961 and in divided Berlin, it's hard not to see someone again. Inspired by the Elvis Presley song of the same name. 1961 Berlin AU.
1. Chapter 1

**It's not the kind of love I dream about**

 **But it's the kind I can't live without**

 **-Don't Ask Me Why**

 **This story is part of the Aleatory-verse, based around divided Berlin during 1961.**

 **0o0o0o**

 _October, 1961, East Berlin_

Lukas checked his watch again and flipped open the newspaper. The front page shouted WALL JUMPER ARRESTED. Another kid tried and failed to cross the wall.

'Horrible, isn't it?'

Lukas folded the page over and looked at the man who leaned against the brick wall beside him. 'Who are you?' he asked.

'Mathias Khøler,' he said, setting down the can of paint he was carrying. Paint brushes stuck haphazardly out of the pockets of his long black coat, the strange sheen of things dyed one too many times. The coat demanded attention against the grey skies. He nodded to Lukas' paper. 'Are you done with that?'

'No.' Lukas slid the magazine into his pocket. Mathias laughed good-naturedly.

'But it is horrible. The wall.'

Lukas shook his head. 'Don't talk about it.'

'Isn't it, though?' Mathias was grinning, now. Lukas grimaced.

'What are you, an informer?' he asked.

'No.' Lukas flinched. Mathias suddenly sounded deadly serious. 'I swear to you that I'm not.'

'Alright, calm down.' Lukas looked away. 'I'm not, either.'

'So you'll help us out, then?'

Lukas gave him an incredulous look. Mathias raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

'Absolutely not,' Lukas said.

'Please. I'll pay you. It's a quick job.'

'Are you asking for…' Lukas recoiled. 'I'm not-I'm not like that.'

'What?' Mathias ran a hand through his hair and flushed red. 'Oh, god. Not like that. I need you to buy us cigarettes. And alcohol. Me and my friend got banned from the store.'

Lukas relaxed. Just a simple booze run. 'How much?'

'What?'

'How much will you pay me,' Lukas repeated. 'I don't work for free.' Or ever, he wanted to add.

Mathias pulled out a crumpled handful of bills. 'Enough.'

'Numbers.'

'Fifty or something.' Mathias held out the paper. 'Count, if you want.'

Lukas took the crumpled wad and thumbed through it. Small denominations, mostly. They seemed legitimate enough. He handed them back.

'You're sure they're not counterfeit?'

'At this point, what's the difference?' Mathias joked. 'So, will you help?'

'I'll help anyone who hands a stranger seventy East marks on a whim,' Lukas decided impulsively. He didn't say that he'd help anyone who talked like they were in the West already. If they weren't an informer, that is. 'Providing that stranger gets me a ride to my work, seeing as that I'll be missing the train for him,' he added as an afterthought.

'I have a motorcycle,' Mathias offered. 'Where's this place of yours? S'long as it's not on the other side of Berlin, I think I could drop you off.' He grinned. 'Costs extra to get you across the Wall.'

'The film shop. In the East.' Lukas ignored the nervous jump in his throat at the thought of crossing the barbed wire.

'I know the place.' Mathias stuck out his hand. Lukas took it, and they shook.

'I'm Lukas Bondevik,' Lukas introduced. Mathias squeezed his hand.

He'd left his paint when he ran around the corner, and Lukas discreetly placed his newspaper overtop it. Mathias wheeled his motorcycle around the corner a moment later, and Lukas admired the cycle.

'Good machine,' he said as Mathias bent down to pop the kickstand.

'Yeah, she's a real beauty.' He patted the flank of the cycle. 'Here, I got you the helmet.' He held the battered headgear out. His leather driving gloves were stained with motor oil.

'Don't need it. I'm not a child.'

'Damn good, too. Kids should be safe, and no offense, but we're anything but.' Lukas knew they looked towards the Wall at the same time.

'They should,' he replied sharply.

Mathias looked up from checking the engine. 'You have one?' he asked, unusually taciturn.

'No. A little brother.' Lukas coughed. 'I'm not married or anything.'

'Oh. Take good care of him,' Mathias said. 'Your kid brother.'

'I try to.'

Mathias, seemingly satisfied, stood up and brushed off his hands. 'Ready?'

'Ready,' Lukas said. He put on the helmet. Mathias pushed the paint into his hands and handed him back his newspaper.

'Put my stuff in the saddlebag, I need two hands.' He stopped and patted at his coat, bringing out the brushes and piling them in Lukas' arms as well.

'Where did you get all this?' Lukas asked, dropping it into the stiff leather bag. Mathias hesitated.

'Around.'

Lukas frowned. 'You one of those types?' he asked slowly.

'Depends what type we're talking about,' he said. Lukas met his eyes. Every second standing here was a second they could be seen, or worse, heard.

'An artist. The kind that'll get in trouble.'

'Your type?'

Lukas scoffed. His pulse was racing.

'My- _type_ aren't madmen.'

'I'm not a madman,' he said.

'You're an artist, and in this world, the two are synonymous.'

'Lukas, west of the Wall, it's an artist's world.' Mathias gunned the bike into life, and it growled loudly. 'A real artist's world.'

Lukas could hear his heart pounding in his ears. The roar of the engine covered their words. 'You're one of those-those avant-garde artists, aren't you?' he whispered.

Mathias sighed, deep and heavy, his smile fading. 'And if I was?' he asked softly. 'I don't betray my friends. That means no telling names. Get on. We'll be late.'

Lukas did.

0o0o0o

It was fast.

Lukas had seen a blur of colour before he'd closed his eyes, but the nauseating feeling like forever going too high on swings remained. The feeling was pushing at his ribs and squeezing his stomach, fighting to get out, and Lukas was trying desperately not to be sick. He held on tighter to Mathias with numb fingertips and dropped his head onto a broad shoulder, the over-dyed coat smelling like old wood and paint.

'How are you holding up?' Mathias asked.

'Fine,' Lukas managed without begging for them to stop. 'It's fast.'

'Old habit. Sorry.' He slowed and patted at his side for something. Lukas kicked him in the back of the leg. His heart felt like it would jump out his throat, and the madman was _rummaging in his pocket_.

'Eyes on the road!' he screamed.

'Right, right. Sorry. Can you get the radio phone from my pocket? Press six three four and tell Columbus you're coming and that he has to pick someone up in the alley past the bricked-up shop and take them to work. And...just say 'usual code word'.'

'Columbus?'

'I don't tell my friend's names.' Mathias looked back at him, regret written over his face. 'Sorry. I really don't think you're an informer, but me and my friends have our rules.'

'We all do.' Lukas pressed his lips together. Code words and fake names. Who was Mathias Khøler? 'Mathias is your real name, though. Isn't it?'

'It is. Lukas.' Mathias laughed and turned back to driving.

After a moment's pause Lukas remembered what he was supposed to do. He forced his eyes open further and fished around for the radio, gripping it so tightly his fingers throbbed.

'Columbus?' he ground out.

The voice crackled back. 'Kalmar?'

 _Kalmar?_

'I'm coming,' Lukas started, and Mathias nodded encouragingly. 'You need to pick someone up in the alley past the bricked-up shop and take them to work. Usual code word.'

'I'll be waiting,' Columbus responded. Even through the radio, Lukas could hear his cheerful Spanish accent. He turned it off and carefully placed it back in Mathias' pocket.

The engine suddenly roared louder, and Lukas flattened himself against Mathias' back with a choked sound. He was going to strangle Mathias with his stupid necktie once they got off this _death machine_. How on Earth they were allowed to people like this _idiotic artist_ was beyond him.

'Open your eyes, Lukas!' he cried. The cycle roared again, and Lukas, against all his better judgement, squeezed his eyes open.

His better judgement must have abandoned him the second he started talking to Mathias Khøler. The city whipped by and the wind stung his eyes and it was a _thousand times worse_ seeing every bump and jostle of the bike, but Lukas didn't have in in him to be scared.

' _This_ is living!' Mathias screamed above the wind. Loathe if Lukas was to admit it, there was an exhilaration building up in the tapping of his heart against his ribs, in the prickling pain of his fingers next to the heat of the coat. Mathias was still whooping as they sped up.

'How are you feeling now?' he asked. Lukas considered the combination of fear and horrible sickness and exhilarating speed and found no words to describe it.

'Everything,' he said truthfully. 'There's a lot of everything-I can't explain it.'

Mathias laughed, wild and bright against the gray buildings, and twisted to tap his chest, and Lukas only shrieked a little bit when he only held onto the handlebars with one hand. 'See? You're feeling it, you're feeling it, aren't you? It never gets old!' he crowed. 'This is where I belong. Astride my bike in the streets of Berlin, _flying_. Mankind may not be meant for the skies, but it has never stopped us from trying. Hell, I think we've tried a little bit harder to touch the stars simply because feathers didn't grow from our backs as children.'

'How do you know?' Lukas teased. Maybe the fear of crashing on this stupid fast street cycle made him reckless.

'Do people have wings, Lukas?' Mathias smiled, blue eyes gleaming. 'No, no need to answer. I know.' He flung out his arms, laughter bouncing off the stone buildings. Lukas held on for the blinding dangerous second, gasping into the wind until Mathias grabbed the handlebars again.

'So?' he asked, breathless, too exhilarated to be scared.

'In one way or another, we all do.' Mathias kicked the bike into a higher gear. Lukas opened his eyes wider and grinned.

0o0o0o

Mathias finally swung off the bike in the lee of an old building. Lukas handed over the paint, feeling lightheaded, and the Dane lowered his voice.

'Out this alley and right one block is a a bar called the Roman that sells the brand of cigarettes the Red Army likes,' he whispered. 'You know the kind?'

'Yes,' Lukas said. Mathias' face was inscrutable in the semi-darkness, but a pit was starting to grow in Lukas' stomach, replacing the warmth of their ride.

'Buy a few packages and the best beer you can get with this.' Mathias pressed a folded clip of bills into his hand. 'Lukas, listen to me. When you get out of the bar, go right. Two blocks and there will be a bricked-up store, you can't miss it. Duck into the first alley after that, and Columbus will be there to take the stuff and bring you to your work. He's a good man, trust him. Just say you're Kalmar's man. The code word is-'

He cut off abruptly and looked behind him, but it was all quiet. Lukas laughed awkwardly, and it echoed loudly off the bricks.

'Kalmar. That's you?'

'Yeah.' Mathias was still studying the walls.

Lukas couldn't ignore his gut instinct. Mathias wasn't an informer. That Lukas would bet on, even if he didn't know why. However, he was starting to think that whatever Mathias was-because he _was_ something; this madman artist couldn't _not_ be anything-was more dangerous and a lot more likely to get Lukas five years in a labour camp-or a bullet in his head.

Mathias leaned forward suddenly, and his lips brushed Lukas' ear. Lukas stiffened.

'Baroque. Like the art. That's the word.' Mathias pulled away and absentmindedly brushed his hair back into place. 'Alright?'

'Alright.'

Mathias frowned. 'You look worried.'

'It's dangerous,' Lukas admitted.

'This city is full of that.' Mathias sighed and ran a hand through his hair, flattening it. 'Lukas, you don't have to do this. I'll give you a ride, even.'

'No, I'm going.' Lukas didn't know what he felt anymore. 'Stay safe.'

'You too.' Mathias stopped and dug in his pocket for a second, offering Lukas the crumpled bills. 'This is yours.'

'I don't need it,' Lukas said, waving it away. Mathias placed it in his palm and curled his fingers around it.

'For Emil, then. Give him regards from Denmark.'

'Denmark. Is that your homeland, Kalmar?' Lukas smiled at him.

'Copenhagen, if we're being specific.' Mathias smiled back, and the tangled exhilaration of their reckless ride through the city bloomed in Lukas' chest again.

Mathias turned to his bike, and Lukas said the words that he didn't know had been hovering on his tongue.

'Will I see you again? After this?'

Mathias was still for a moment. 'You shouldn't want to see me again,' he said finally. 'It's...dangerous.'

'Well, this city is full of that.' Lukas held out the helmet, and after a moment of hesitation, he took it. 'You know where to find me, Kalmar. The film shop.'

'Okay.' Mathias' face split into a grin. 'I'm not promising anything, you hear me? But I'm not saying no, either.'

Lukas couldn't stop his smile as he clumsily stuffed the crumpled bills into his pocket. 'Until next time, Mathias.'

He grabbed Lukas' hand suddenly, pulling off his driving gloves and pushing them into his hands. 'Promise me you'll take good care of Emil,' he said, eyes serious and shining blue. Lukas slipped the gloves on slowly, flexing his fingers. They held the heat of his body. Mathias jammed his hands in his pockets and laughed. 'And stay warm.'

'I will,' Lukas promised. He looked down to where his newspaper was sticking out of his pocket, faintly stained with motor grease. He held it out. 'Here.' Mathias looked at him for a second in shock, his eyebrows raised. Lukas shook it. 'I don't have all day.'

His face broke into a grin and he took it. 'Thank you, Lukas.'

His hair fell in his eyes. Lukas turned, pushing away the lingering feelings of the ride. He could feel Mathias' eyes on him as he walked into the brighter street. When he heard the quiet rumble of the engine, Lukas looked back, but the alley was empty.

0o0o0o

The bell jingled. Even though it was morning, Roman was filled with loud, shouting, obviously drunk people, all tinted gold and smoky with the pale light and swaying with the crooning music. The bartender was arguing animatedly with someone at the bar. Lukas sat down at the only available seat and watched as the bartender slammed his fist on the table and the guy stormed out. He twisted to face Lukas.

'Order?' he asked, reaching for a cocktail shaker. Lukas was finally able to get a good look at his face, still flushed from shouting, with auburn eyes and unruly curls. He wondered how he kept so many patrons if he argued with the customers like that.

'Cigarettes. Four packs and a bottle of that.' Lukas pointed to what looked cheapest. The man pulled it down.

'Eighty East marks.'

Damn. Lukas pointed at one of the cigarette packages. 'Scratch one of those.'

The man studied him as he put it away. His nametag glinted in the light. Romano.

'Buying for someone?' he asked, pushing the pile across and holding out a hand for the money. Lukas counted out the change.

'No,' he lied.

'You don't look like you'd have all this to yourself.' Romano flipped through the pile and locked it in the register. Lukas felt his pulse jump when the man looked back, intense and calculating.

'Buying to share, if you must know.' The bartender's eyes dug into him. Fear always made him reckless. 'My brother.'

'Brothers,' Romano spat, mouth twisting. Lukas' brow furrowed.

'Do you have a brother?'

Romano looked away. His auburn eyes were shadowed underneath, like he'd barely slept, and his face was hollow in the cheeks. 'No.'

Lukas nodded slowly. Something about Romano felt off to him, like he was the complete opposite of Mathias. 'Thank you.'

Romano dropped his gaze to the bar. He crumpled up the rag in his hands. 'Thanks for the service,' he mumbled.

Lukas gathered his things and left, glad to be out.

0o0o0o

Columbus lay across the hood of his car, absentmindedly sucking on a lollipop and trying to take a picture of the sky. Lukas waited until he was done. Columbus took his picture and fit the camera back into its case before he even glanced at him. Lukas stopped dead.

'Antonio?'

Antonio rolled off the hood to face him, slipping the camera back around his neck. He pulled the stick out of his mouth and stopped, disbelief written over his face. 'Kalmar's man is you?' he asked.

'Small world.' Lukas looked down at his armful of alcohol and cigarettes. 'Baroque,' he muttered.

'Yeah, you're his.' Antonio rubbed a bit of dust from the red paint of his car. 'Small half of our city.'

'I thought you were a photographer.' Lukas didn't know what to say to tie the photographer who regularly visited his shop to the chaotic artistry of Mathias. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

'I am.' Antonio laughed tiredly, looking back at the sky. Lukas followed his gaze to the clouds framed between the buildings. 'This is Berlin, Lukas. We aren't all as we seem.'

'No. Maybe just me.' Lukas didn't like the idea of just being Lukas Bondevik as much in the face of Mathias nicknamed Kalmar with so many secrets like paint.

'That's the stuff?' Antonio interrupted his thoughts. Lukas held out what he'd bought. Antonio took it, rocking uncertainly back and forth on his heels. 'This is from the Roman?'

'Yes.'

A shadow flickered over Antonio's face. 'You got it from Romano?'

'The bartender? I did.' Lukas frowned. 'Should I have gotten it from someone else?'

'No, no. He runs the bar anyways.' Antonio smiled, but it looked strained.

'Do you know him?' Lukas pressed.

'Yes.' Antonio turned abruptly and set the package in the trunk. He closed it with a snap and stayed motionless, shoulders hunched. 'I guess you could say he's the one who banned us.'

Lukas waited until Antonio turned back around and slipped into the driver's seat to silently get in the passenger's door. Antonio pressed the Corvette into life and set off.

0o0o0o

Antonio let him off behind his shop. Lukas went about the motions of opening until he realized Antonio was still waiting.

'Are you going to be the first customer or something?' he asked bluntly, flipping his sign to OPEN. Antonio laughed, twisting the leather strap of his beloved camera between his fingers.

'Lukas, it might be best if you forget that I'm associated with anything like…' He waved ambiguously, and Lukas' suspicions settled more concretely. 'And please don't tell anyone.'

'I won't.' Lukas fiddled with an empty film canister. 'Antonio, I won't tell anyone about what happened, but it might be best if you left now.'

'Of course.' Relief broke on his face, and he waved cheerfully as he left. Lukas watched his car until it turned the corner and groaned, rubbing his temples. With a start, he realized he was still wearing Mathias' driving gloves, and pulled them off. After a moment of indecision, he stuffed them in his pocket. They weighed on his hip, a reminder that the morning hadn't been a strange dream, no matter how much he now wanted it to be.

'What have I gotten myself into?' he asked himself.

 **0o0o0o**

 **Forelsket (Norwegian): the euphoria of falling in love with someone**

 ** _:: Old, stained cherry wood_**


	2. Chapter 2

Lukas came home and set the bundle of food he'd bought on the counter. The lights were off again, no matter how much he fiddled with the light switch.

'Where'd you get the food?'

'Hello, Emil,' Lukas said, pointedly ignoring him. Emil put down his pencil. His eyes were bleary from working equations in the dark.

'Where did you get this, Lukas?' he asked again, getting up. His hands were thin and the knuckles pushed sharply against the skin. Lukas couldn't miss the way his eyes darted to the packages. 'How much did it cost?'

'Don't worry about that. Aren't you glad it's here at all?' Lukas leaned over to adjust his scarf. 'How is your work going?'

Emil pushed his hands away. 'Lukas. Where did you get it?' His eyes had the hungry, desperate look that Lukas hated and feared so much. 'We don't have enough-'

'I said not to worry.' He pushed past Emil in the cramped apartment and picked up his calculations. 'You forgot to carry the one here. Make sure you're prepared for the entrance exam.'

'Lukas, stop it.' He sounded defeated. Emil hated talking about the exams for college, but it was all Lukas could do.

'Are you?' he pushed.

'Yes. I have to be by now.'

He let him take the old workbook and place it back on the shelf. They caught each other's gazes in the middle. His brother's face was thinner and paler than before, and his clothes sat awkwardly on his newly taller frame. Lukas' heart tightened painfully. No, he didn't regret what he'd done for Mathias, but he wished it was all easier.

'If you're sure,' he said softly. Emil broke their gaze first, and retreated to the battered couch to look over his work. Lukas lit the stove and started cooking.

Emil didn't talk to him at all during dinner. Lukas wasn't foolish enough to push the issue, and let him stay at the table when they were done, plates scraped clean. When he got up to put the rest of the food in the pantry, Emil grabbed his arm.

'You've got gloves in your pocket.'

Mathias' driving gloves. Lukas' heart sped up-how could he have forgotten?-but he tried to keep his voice steady.

'Do you want them?'

Emil stared at him for a long moment before letting go. Lukas tucked the gloves further into his pocket and put the food away. Emil was just a child still, and he looked better than he had in weeks when he had enough to eat. When he was drifting off to sleep, clutching his stuffed puffin, Lukas made made up his mind.

He would go back to Mathias, even if he might be mad, and an artist, and it might cost him everything. It would be worth it. It had to be worth it, for Emil.

He quietly slipped out the door.

0o0o0o

Lukas had realized shortly into his dangerous and potentially fatal mission to find a single street artist in Berlin that he knew nothing about Mathias. Night had fallen, and the Wall guards leered at him as he passed. Lukas despised them.

The only lead he had was the bar. Mathias and Antonio had been banned, according to him, but maybe people there still knew them. It was a start, and so Lukas was standing under the dark wooden sign, steeling his resolve before he entered.

The place was full, but not to bursting. It was still early, and the late shift of construction workers and possibly even guards wouldn't have arrived yet. The people here were tired and sleepy and barely muttering. The strangest thing, Lukas found, was that there was no music playing. An empty silence hung around the place.

His footsteps seemed loud on the weathered wood floor as he sat down at the bar. Romano scowled, but his mouth was slack and face flushed with the evidence of alcohol and exhaustion.

'Back again?' he asked, but there was no real venom in it. Lukas nodded and shifted closer. He wished there was music. It felt like everyone in the bar could be listening, and any one of them could be an informant for the Stasi.

'I want to know something about someone.'

Romano raised a disdainful eyebrow. 'Are you thinking of getting into the business with _them?_ '

The Stasi. Lukas curled his lip. 'Of course not.'

'Of course not,' Romano echoed, but his grip tightened on the glass in his hands. He looked down and set it on the bar. 'Buy something first.'

Lukas took something simple, and when Romano turned back around, leaned forward and lowered his voice. 'I want to know about someone who used to come here.'

Romano's knuckles whitened on his cloth, and Lukas thought he saw a flash of genuine fear in his eyes. 'If Braginsky sent-if you're looking for that fucking Wall guard again, I told you, I don't know anything.'

'I'm looking for an artist,' Lukas whispered into to heavy, still air. 'His name is Mathias.'

Romano's ears went red, and his mouth began to twist into a grimace. Lukas remembered Antonio, and how he'd seemed to know Romano.

'He works with Antonio-?'

Romano slammed his hands on the bar loud enough to wake the two people beside them. Lukas' pulse jumped, his mouth suddenly dry, every muscle locked in fear. He didn't know what to do. Romano looked like he was ready to come to blows.

'Get out,' he snarled. 'I fucking told him not to come back. I told all of them.'

'Hold on-' Lukas backpedaled. What had he done wrong?

'Get out!' Romano shouted, and then his voice dropped to a chilling, quiet emptiness. He pointed out the door. 'If I see you in here again, I will call the police.'

Lukas carefully set down his untouched glass and backed away. Some people were looking blurrily up, but he wasn't scared of them. He was scared of the fury and pain in Romano's eyes.

He started walking again, unsure of himself, stumbling through the dark streets. He wasn't sure where he was going, or what he wanted to do. The expression on Romano's face before he'd turned away was twisted and hurting, exactly how Antonio's had been. For some reason, he hurt along with them.

'Lukas!'

Lukas only roused in time to feel a heavy set of arms flung around him, and Mathias' blond hair tickling his nose. He smelled like paint and asphalt and motor oil, and Lukas let himself be held for a single, soaring moment before he removed the hands from his shoulders.

Mathias Khøler stood in front of him, hair wind-tossed and standing up off his forehead in even wilder spikes.

'What are you doing, Lukas?' he asked in a hush, trying to force a smile that kept breaking with relief. Lukas was nearly limp with relief over seeing him, but forced his smile down. 'Walkin' right up to the Wall? Thought you were smarter than that.'

'I'm not the stupid one here,' Lukas cracked, and when Mathias' worried, strained expression widened into a real grin, he-he couldn't stop looking.

'Really, though. What are you doing here?'

Lukas was reluctant to admit. 'I...was just banned from the Roman.'

Mathias' face fell. 'What did you do?'

'I just mentioned Antonio,' he said, but he knew that between them, it wasn't a simple thing. Mathias winced.

'Sorry, I should have warned you or something.'

'I can't pick up your cigarettes anymore,' Lukas said, more than half-seriously, but his stomach felt full of lead. A booze run had probably been his least dangerous way to get money, and now he couldn't do that. Mathias waved it off.

'Berwald doesn't take cigs much anymore, don't worry.' He absentmindedly brushed at the concrete dust on Lukas' shoulder before looking up. 'Why were you wanderin' about to go see Romano, anyways?'

'I thought he might know where you were.' Lukas clenched his hands into fists, trying to work out how to say the next sentence. 'I would prefer not to get involved with you-with any of whatever you're doing, Mathias.'

'Because I'm a madman?' Mathias offered, mouth tipping up towards a small smile. Lukas couldn't look at him-it made his chest feel wrong and right, as if he were back on the motorcycle.

'Because you're doing something you could be jailed for. Don't tell me what it is, because I don't want to know. But I am willing to...help.'

Mathias nodded slowly, realization dawning in his eyes. 'Yeah, I get it. Smart not to get too attached to artists here. If you're just willing to run a few plans, help us get a few things…' He grinned. 'It'll all work out.'

'I'm only doing this for my brother,' Lukas warned. His chest felt tight. Mathias was so earnest about everything he did, and it made Lukas feel dishonest. It had to be this way, though, to balance Emil and safety with everything Mathias was offering.

'I know. And I promise, we'll pay you. We take care of our own.' He held out his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, thinking of the danger that lay ahead, Lukas shook. Mathias looked down at their joined hands. 'I'm glad you like the gloves. You keeping warm?'

'They're good quality.' Lukas let go. He nodded proudly.

'Of course they are. I got them from the West side, back when we were still allowed.' The reminder of the Wall was unwelcome, and Mathias coughed. 'You want to go out and get a drink? Since we kind of led to you getting kicked out of Romano's and all.'

Emil was at home, and Lukas should refuse this. It would break the unsure rules of whatever tentative deal they had made. But Mathias was holding out his hands again, an invitation to some secret world, and-and Lukas needed something exhilarating.

He nodded. Mathias whooped and pulled him along. His hair was blazed bright by the moonlight.

0o0o0o

The headquarters, because Lukas had a feeling that's where they were, was much smaller than the Roman. People sat in clusters around the hole-in-the-wall room, talking, laughing, singing. When Mathias came in, people turned, and some even applauded.

'Who've you got there, Kalmar?' someone cried jovially.

'Don't worry,' Mathias called, sliding into the bar. 'What do you take?'

'I don't drink much.'

'Then you're missing out. Not by much, since all we've got is shitty cheap beer and vodka, but…' Mathias turned his glass morosely. 'We used to have a good stock, but we're not allowed to Romano's place anymore and _Gilbert_ ended up being a lying turncoat _son of a bitch_.' He took a drink. Lukas was taken aback by the sudden venom in his tone, and then again when he turned back to normal. 'You're really not missing much. Best thing here is the company.'

'Is this your…' Lukas gestured awkwardly. 'Are they friends of you and Antonio?'

'Yes. If I was trying to find a group of people who hated the Wall and everyone who'd put it up and wanted to pull it down...this would be the place I'd find them. I can't say more, of course.' Mathias grinned over the edge of the glass. Lukas gripped the edge of the mahogany to ground himself. He had known Mathias Khøler was _someone_ , but this-speaking so openly and dangerously about the Wall-this was more than he'd ever expected.

'Do you know how many laws those people would be breaking?' he asked, trying to sound casual.

Mathias laughed. 'We've all got our death warrants signed in advance, trust me.'

Lukas didn't like the way he spoke of so openly courting death. The idea of being caught and staring down the black barrel of a gun was horrible. Mathias noticed.

'You're safe,' he said. 'As long as you just keep to the sidelines. Don't worry.'

Lukas thought it was the same kind of reassurance not to worry that he'd told Emil. Mathias exhaled a long breath, trying to explain.

'We know it's dangerous. All of us are here by choice. We know that we can lose our lives, and most of us don't have girls and family to go back to.'

'Do you?' He knew it was not the point of the conversation, but the question dug into him with sharp barbs.

Mathias shrugged. 'No. Had one a few years back and we didn't last long. Why?'

'No reason.' Lukas somehow felt like he was lying, but not sure how. His face was hot. 'I'll have a drink, actually.'

Mathias chuckled and passed him a bottle. 'So, tell me more about yourself. You work in the film shop. What about your kid brother?'

'He's still studying. I'd like him to get into a better...college.'

'A better life.' He hummed wistfully. 'Nothing wrong with that. Do you ever wonder what a better life would have been like for us? A life without the war. Without the Wall.' Something about that sort of dream felt treasonous, dangerous, and Lukas hated that it did. Mathias nodded to the door, eyes half-lidded as he motioned for another drink, and his head bobbed. 'I'd have been an architect.'

Mathias as an architect. The more Lukas looked at him, the more he could see it. His throat felt thick.

'That would have been nice.'

Mathias flashed him a crooked grin. 'Now, don't get me dreaming 'bout that too much. The wars happened. The Wall happened. And now we have to live. No use spending your days thinking of what could have been if we were all less stupid and proud of ourselves.'

Emil as whatever he would have liked. Lukas being something else, which was a whole world that scared him as much as it lured him. Just like Mathias. This whole conversation was straying too close to things it was easier to not think about.

'Mathias-'

'You've gotta call me Kalmar here,' Mathias interrupted.

'Why?'

'It's supposed to be so if one of us is caught, we don't know real names. Of course, some get out.' He sat up and pointed over to a small group of people sitting by the dusty window. 'He's...not here, but you already know Columbus. He was here even before the Wall really went up. Came all the time with his friends, this French poet and...and Gilbert.' Anger flickered over his face again before he pushed it away. 'Gilbert brought this Hungarian woman once, she was a hit. We used to get together and make a bit of trouble for the Soviets.'

'Who's Gilbert?' Lukas had the feeling he would regret the question. Mathias' mouth twisted.

'We called him Eagle, you know. He was always the best of all of us at this. He'd fuck with their transports, get in a fight with some officers, and steal their weapons all in one night. Plus, he brought really good beer. A lot of people thought he should be leader, me included. But people started...going missing. People he knew the names of. And then he goes, too, vanishes for a month and we _mourn him_ , because we thought he was dead. Taken up by the bastards of the Stasi. But he comes back one day, all suited up in a _fucking Soviet guard uniform_ , and tells us that we need to get out because his city is getting divided into East and West. And he said he-he sold people out to find that out. He expected us to think that was okay.'

Mathias' jaw trembled, and he finished his glass and slammed it on the bar. 'You never- _never_ -betray people like that. I should have killed him right then and there. Went after him with a broken bottle and all, nearly got his eye.'

'You knew?' Lukas asked, reeling. 'But you're still here.'

Mathias shook his head grimly, eyes glittering. 'Those of us who stayed are the ones who are tearing down the Wall with our bare hands. And when I do, I'm going to find Gilbert Beilschmidt in the rubble of his world and finish off that scar I started.'

 **0o0o0o**

 **The resistance group is inspired by the Swords To Ploughshares and Church From Below movements.**

 ** _:: The roar of a stadium before dark_**


	3. Chapter 3

Life was better with the resistance, even if Lukas didn't want to say so. Food was on the table and Emil started looking like his little brother again, instead of being pinched and worn years older with hunger and worry. He ate regularly, Lukas made sure, but he never stopped asking where they'd gotten the food.

'I said not to worry about it.' He took another bite, trying to focus on the hot food and not his brother's accusing purple eyes.

Emil glared at him, picking at the loose threads of his scarf. 'It's suspicious, is all I'm saying. You go out for a day and then you come back with all of this. You're not doing anything illegal, are you?'

Irrational hot fear lanced through him, but Lukas scoffed dismissively. 'Don't be ridiculous. What could I do that's illegal?'

Emil turned away. 'I just want you to be careful.'

'I'm always being careful.'

'I'm serious, Lukas.' His eyes were still deep-sunk and shadowed, and anger flared in them. 'You know what I think? I worry that I'm going to come home and see you dead in the paper. Because whatever you're doing to get this, _you love it_ , I can see that. I'm scared that you're getting too deep.'

The accusation hit him deeper than he knew Emil would have meant, and Lukas stared at him, stunned. The resistance and Mathias were only exciting because the rest of life was endless order and dullness, nothing more.

'Eat your food,' he said through the knot in his throat. 'I'm going for a walk.'

'Lukas, wait-' His voice was nearly panicked, but Lukas brushed past him, grabbed Mathias' driving gloves, and left.

The air bit at his cheeks as he stalked down the street. His head hurt. He needed to get away and calm down before he said something he would regret to Emil. He had promised himself he would be a good brother, and that meant that he had to do things like this-keep him safe and away from the truth.

Lying to his brother still made him feel wrong inside, like he was no better than the government who kept assuring them nothing could ever be wrong. The dull pulse of his temples sharpened into a stabbing pain, and he sat down, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes until it hurt. He was doing the same thing. But his was for a good reason, to keep Emil safe, for-

He was about to say _for the greater good_ and felt even worse. With that kind of thinking, people could rationalize anything. He should go back and talk to Emil, but the thought of revealing this secret, of letting someone else, even his brother, know about Mathias made him prickle with distaste for a reason he couldn't understand. So he did nothing, and stayed on the cracked lump of concrete, occasionally stomping his feet to keep warm, lost in his messy thoughts until someone stopped in front of him. All Lukas could see was his black boots and pressed Soviet uniform, and his stomach twisted. He was sitting not twenty feet from the Wall.

'Didn't anyone tell you the border's closed?' The boot nudged his scuffed shoes, and Lukas forced himself to stay still. 'What, you got someone over there?'

'Everyone does,' he said, his voice flat, giving nothing of his fear away. The Wall guard shifted, and the cold sunlight gleamed along the scratched muzzle of his gun. Lukas froze.

 _I worry that I'm going to come home and see you dead in the paper_.

An irrational laugh bubbled up inside of him. He looked up into the guard's face and couldn't help his surprise. The guard was so pale his edges faded into the bright sky, his hair nothing but strands of fire against the sun. His eyes were a bloody red, and his forehead was marred with an angry wound.

'Wouldn't I know that,' he said, his mouth stretching into a grin. 'What are you, a jumper?'

'I'm not stupid,' Lukas said. The anticipation was eating at him, and he would almost prefer the guard pull him off to jail right away, rather than play his sadistic game. He stared into those fathomless red eyes, hoping that the guard, the traitor with the flawless German and the local accent, could see his resent of all he stood for.

'You don't look the type. I hope I won't have to shoot you.'

'I'd prefer not.' Lukas could barely keep his disgust out of his voice. The man gestured carelessly, in the loose way that meant he was already drunk.

'I've seen someone shot, you know.' His grin was sharklike. 'An artist of some sort. They always are. Or he knew one, the dangerous kind.'

'Did he survive?' Lukas asked.

'I wouldn't be getting any ideas about your chances. Especially with the concrete they're adding now. Around the Gate.' He jerked his head in the direction, but his eyes never left Lukas' face. 'So, do you know any artists?'

 _Mathias, laughing, his pockets spilling over with brushes, the way he'd thrown out his arms as they flew through the streets_.

'No.' This time, the lie tasted like fire and he relished it.

'Too bad.' The guard lit a cigarette. 'We've been looking for a group of them. Dangerous revolutionaries.' His eyes focused on Lukas' hands, and then he grabbed them with a burning, crushing grip, and turned them over to show splatters of green and orange paint. 'I thought you might have met some.'

Time stretched out, Lukas not answering because there was no answer, because the sun threw every scratch on the shifting barrel into high relief-pointing towards him or just being adjusted, he didn't know-and the guard's red eyes were dark below his scar in a blaze of white.

'Lukas!'

Someone grabbed his shoulder, calloused hands and spray paint-flecked cuticles, gripping tight enough to bruise. He would know that voice anywhere, and it filled him with relief and fear. The guard was standing not two feet away.

'Your brother told me you'd be around here. Come on, we need to pick him up,' Mathias said with such confidence Lukas could almost believe it was all okay. He mutely allowed himself to be led away. Mathias' grip never loosened until they were out of sight, and then he took a deep breath, rubbing his hands through his hair, making it even more windtossed.

'Lukas Bondevik,' he said, voice hiding the end of a tired chuckle. 'Oh, God.'

Lukas stood there, weighted down with sick shame. It was his fault, all of this, all the way up to him storming out.

'I'm sorry,' he said. The words felt heavy. 'I was too close to the Wall.'

'No, _I'm_ sorry.' Mathias' hand went to a pocket on the inside of his coat, where silver metal gleamed, before it dropped away. He laughed, rough and hoarse. 'You just met Gilbert Beilschmidt. And I should have shot him dead.'

'That was _Gilbert_?' Lukas couldn't help glancing back. It felt like he'd just been in close quarters with a wolf.

'Nobody like him, right?' Mathias smiled crookedly. 'Looks like an angel, acts like a dog.'

'Doesn't he know you?' Lukas asked. Mathias leaned back against the brick wall and nodded. His eyes were blank.

'Sorry, Lukas. He'll think you're one of us now.' His grin flashed again, and he held out his hand. 'Might be easier to go all in and join us.'

The offer lingered between them for more than it should, Lukas unable to reject the idea of it as readily as he should. Mathias dropped his hand and looked away.

'I don't mean it. You heard what I said. You'll end up dead, just like me.'

'You won't.'

Mathias didn't bother answering for a moment. Then, he said, 'I'm surprised that bastard hasn't revealed where we are yet.'

'He knows?' Lukas asked in surprise. 'Why hasn't he…'

'His masters don't like him much, either. That's what happens when you're a turncoat. They'd made him do the raid himself, and then he'd be in our hands.' His expression was grim and self-satisfied. 'You saw the gash I put in his forehead?'

If you'd done more, we wouldn't have to have this conversation,' Lukas said wryly. Mathias burst out laughing.

'No use mourning. But I do like talking to you, Lukas. A lot.'

Even after Gilbert, that simple admittance and the simple fact of Mathias saying it struck him silent. Mathias' expression fell, and he backed away.

'People say I talk too much.'

'You do,' Lukas said, but he heard himself as if through a veil. Mathias jerked his head, eyes fluttering.

'If you're safe, you should probably go. You heard him. You shouldn't get fond of-of associating with people like me.' He turned to go.

'I don't mind,' Lukas said. He was nearly terrified of losing someone like Mathias, but everything in him was frozen, unsure how to make him stay. 'You talking and all the rest of it.'

He turned back, blue eyes looking at him like he expected it to be a joke.

'Are you sure?' he asked. Lukas nodded, fixated on the way he licked his lips and the way his mouth pulled red with blood blush.

'I'll be at the autobahn stop over there tonight. There's a place I know. I hope you like chess.' His heart was fluttering, playing one breath at a time, the seconds spiraling and coiling up on themselves. It was still out of fear, but maybe from a little bit more.

'I'd be a fool to turn someone like you down,' he said softly. His smile was bright and grew wider and Lukas let himself smile back before they parted ways. He was light all the way home.

Emil was shut up in his room when Lukas got home. Lukas went to wash the paint smears off his gloves, readying himself to talk. Mathias always made him feel braced up and uncaring of danger.

He knocked on the door and waited. After a long pause, Emil opened it, his scarf hanging loose around his neck.

'So you came back,' he said. The words stung, but Lukas looked him in the eye and pushed past cold pride.

'I'm sorry.'

Surprise shattered his closed expression open, shocking him silent. After what felt like an eternity, he stepped into the cramped hallway and shut the door behind him.

'If you're not going to tell me where you go or what's happening...just be safe,' he said.

'I am.' Lukas still felt bad about lying, but he didn't want to ruin it. 'I'm going out tonight. We're not getting any food out of it. I'm just meeting someone.'

'Really?' Emil squinted at him, maneuvering to the kitchen. 'Is she nice?'

This time, the lie stuck in his throat. He watched his brother sit down and the way his loose scarf showed how his collarbones didn't look quite so starved. He wasn't sure why he hurt.

'Yes.'

0o0o0o

Mathias was waiting when he got there, hands in his pockets, laughing and whistling up at the birds chirping melodies. His face was flushed, and Lukas felt a tug in his stomach.

'I got here early,' he said in greeting. 'Sorry.'

'Don't worry.' Lukas sat down next to him on the bench. The space between them felt heavy and electric, like the sky before a storm. He couldn't help looking at Mathias' pockets. He wondered if he still had the gun with him. 'Are your hands cold?'

'The gloves are a gift, Lukas.' His expression was serious for a moment before he leaned in and nudged his shoulder with a grin, and Lukas went hot and cold. 'So, how good are you at chess?'

'Good enough.' He could beat Emil eight times out of ten.

'Me too.' Mathias jumped up as the train turned the corner, and Lukas shrugged away the cold and followed him aboard.

It was strange to see Mathias doing such a normal, everyday sort of thing. He watched out the window, the buildings passing by, his bare hands leaving ghosts of their shape on the glass.

'Watching this on a motorcycle is better,' he said. Some of his hair was sticking to the glass, the waterlogged colour turning goldenrod. 'The one thing that bastard was right about.'

'Gilbert has a motorcycle?'

'Gilbert used to have a motorcycle. After the Wall went up, I found it by my house.' He shrugged. 'He doesn't have horrible taste in everything.'

0o0o0o

The nightclub was one of the more tastefully designed ones on the street, and there was a devoted group of people who played chess in the back room, and the drinking was cheap. It was originally the last fact that had drawn Lukas there, but he now appreciated the other two.

Another fact he could now appreciate was that he and Mathias had wildly different ideas of how good they were at chess.

'Checkmate,' Lukas said. Mathias' expression was a mixture of disbelief and awe.

'That's the third time in a row!' He grabbed his hands, and Lukas' pulse sped up. 'You have to tell me how you're doing it.'

'You make too many high-risk moves,' Lukas said, gesturing down with one hand. Mathias continued to hold the other. 'You'll always get checkmated if you keep trying to rush into this. Sometimes you need to let go and think of the bigger picture.'

Mathias' grip tightened, and Lukas realized how close they were. He tugged his hand away.

'I know.' Mathias chuckled, but his expression was wistful and sad. 'Wanna go get a drink?'

They sat away from the worst of the noise in the main room by Lukas' insistence. Mathias' hand was still close to his, and his skin seemed perpetually stained with paint. Lukas ran his fingertip across a bright blue starburst, and he went still.

'What kind of art do you do?'

'Not art. My art would be architecture. I do...protests, I guess. When I can't stand the Stasi anymore, I spray paint all my thoughts about them onto the walls of the city. That way, I don't do something like attack a guard in broad daylight.' His thumb pressed against Lukas' palm, stroking in a circle. He stared off into nothing. 'You said I rush into things, but I know my limits.'

'You shouldn't be telling me everything.'

'You make it easy to.' He looked over and squeezed his hand one last time before he let Lukas go. 'I trust you.'

'I know.' The words just slipped out. Mathias nodded, shifting closer. Lukas took a drink. 'Why?'

'Me and mine, we gotta choose to be naive. Plus, you're not an informer, are you.' He looked up, face flushed. 'Even if you were, think I'm too far gone.'

'What does that mean?'

'Means I really like you. Talkin' to you, seein' you around. All of it.' He sounded like he didn't know what he was saying.

'I like being with you too,' Lukas said, wondering if Mathias would remember his confession come morning.

'Shouldn't. You shouldn't, it's dangerous, all of it, Antonio says I'm being stupid for carrying this on, but Lukas, you're…'

'I'm what?' Mathias didn't normally make complete sense, but this was...it seemed different. His eyes were unfocused, but bright blue.

Mathias blinked, swaying slightly on his feet. 'I need to keep my mouth shut sometimes,' he said. 'You're-you're not like that. You told me. Sorry.' He grabbed a drink off the bar and pushed it into his hand. 'Here, to make up for it. Your drinks are on me tonight.'

'Like what?' Lukas asked. 'What are you talking about?'

'We've got different preferences. You said. Your type isn't...madmen. Men.' Mathias ran a hand through his hair, his breath coming faster. 'This is not how I wanted to tell you. I promise, I won't make you-I won't try anything.'

The realization hit Lukas like a blow to the chest, and he flinched. Mathias let him back away, but the hurt in his eyes was raw.

'Please don't turn me in,' he whispered. His blue eyes were crinkled around the edges in fear and sorrow, and Lukas couldn't make sense of a single thought in his head.

'I'm not turning anyone in,' he said. He fumbled for his drink and drained half of it with shaking hands. 'It doesn't matter-any of that stuff-to me.'

'Really?'

Lukas nodded and let the liquid courage settle in his bones. His head was a blurry mess. Mathias never made sense, except that all he was made the world fall into patterns that felt like home.

'I'm sorry,' Mathias said again. Lukas shook his head and stared at the bar.

'It's fine,' he said. He couldn't understand why the news made him feel the way he did. They didn't mention it again the rest of the night.

Mathias let him go at the stop where they'd met. He had been subdued the whole way, and that more than anything was the wrong part.

'Mathias,' he said, frustrated. 'It doesn't change anything.'

'Thanks, Lukas,' he said. His eyes were shadowed but gentle.

'Do you have anyone?'

Mathias stuck his hands in his pockets and shook his head very unconvincingly. Lukas just waited until he broke.

'There's someone, but they're not...you know.' He pushed his hair back. 'Don't worry about me. I've gotten through my breakups and my bad days before.'

Lukas felt an irrational flare of-jealousy, or something, which was ridiculous, but the idea of Mathias focusing on someone rather than him made him feel sick and small.

'I'll see you around,' was all he said. Mathias stopped.

'You still want to see me?' he said with such astonishment it hurt.

'Why wouldn't I?'

'Well, you know.' Mathias was looking at him with so much hope. 'Really?'

'I'm already with you despite your job,' Lukas said. 'This won't change things.'

'Most people would say you're stupid for still hangin' around me, you know.' Mathias was grinning like a kid on Christmas.

'You must be rubbing off on me.' Lukas has a sudden impulse to run his hands through Mathias' messy hair and shoved them in his pockets instead. 'I'll come around the bar you took me to eventually. Not all our meetings have to be around the Wall.'

'Alright. See you, then.' Mathias looked so happy he couldn't look him straight on, and ran off, his coat swirling. Lukas watched him go and then turned home.

 **0o0o0o**

 ** _:: A song you'd almost forgotten by an artist you still love_**


	4. Chapter 4

The film shop was always quiet in the mornings in the period between the nightlife going to sleep and the morning waking up, where all the lights turned from neon to silvery. Lukas watched the last people walk home through the window. Emil would be waking up soon back at home. And as for Mathias- he shook his head, rubbing at the palm of his gloves. For all he knew, the mad Dane never slept. He was a hub of frantic, reasonless energy.

The memory flashed through his head again of his windswept hair brushing down against his brow and curling behind his ears. Mathias was so disorganized and careless and bright that it made Lukas feel everything he never understood, like that one motorcycle trip down the streets.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost didn't realize when the bell jingled and the door opened. He pulled off his gloves and smoothly slid them under the counter, but it was only Antonio standing hesitantly at the door. He relaxed.

'Do you need another refill?' he asked, already reaching for the film behind him. Antonio shook his head. He held out his weathered camera like a downed bird, something precious and fragile.

'I need you to develop this,' he said shakily. Lukas took it, warily watching. The leather strap hit the glass counter and Antonio flinched. His eyes were deeply shadowed. A heavy cut bridged his nose.

'When will you be back for it?'

'No.' Antonio laughed, a strange, jerky motion. His head twitched back toward the window, and his gaze wouldn't meet Lukas' face. 'I just need you to develop it. I'll be back it some day. Maybe. Please, I just need to develop it. I've got money.'

'I'll do it for free,' Lukas said. 'What's happening?'

'Nothing.' Antonio froze watching a man in a heavy coat pass by the store. 'You'll keep the picture here?'

'I'll do it, but Antonio-'

'Someone might come by,' he blurted. His eyes were finally focused, and the green was blurry and fearful. His hands twitched in and out of fists. 'Romano. You know him? He has a curl that never lies flat, and-and _hazel eyes_.' He presses the heels of his hands into his own hands, shoulders curling in with a laugh or sob. 'I didn't know he had hazel eyes. The streetlights here make them look darker.'

'Antonio.' Lukas was genuinely alarmed. Antonio had the look of a man deeply damaged, who was going back into the same hurt. 'What are you doing?'

'The right thing.' Antonio dropped his hands. 'What I shouldn't do. What I can't dare to do.'

'The Wall?' Lukas breathed, elated and terrified. Antonio nodded. Some of the haze in his eyes seemed to clear, and he stood taller.

'You can't stop me,' he said softly.

'I know.' Lukas rubbed his upper arms with his hands. 'You know the cost.'

'We've all paid enough.' Antonio tipped his head at the gloves beneath his counter, his brows furrowing good-naturedly. 'Aren't those Kalmar's?'

Lukas supposed morbidly that dead men didn't tell secrets. 'Yes.'

'Oh.' For a second, it looked like he was about to ask questions, but his expression cleared. 'I thought so. And thank you.' He gave a smile, a bit wider and brighter than the pained grimace before.

He turned to go and Lukas spoke before he realized. The question had been hovering in his mind since he'd found out about Gilbert.

'Did you know Gilbert?'

Antonio stilled, and Lukas braced himself for a screaming rant. But Antonio crumpled around the shoulders, leaning against the door.

'I thought I did. You make easier friends in good weather.'

'What was he like when you knew him?'

'I think I loved him once.' Antonio stared into the distance like he couldn't hear the aching loss in his own voice. 'Because he was fearless and powerful and made everyone else feel the same way.'

'I know.'

Antonio raised an eyebrow. 'Make sure you fall in love with the right people.'

'How do you know they're right?'

'Because the world makes sense around them. Because you'd give anything for them.' He sighed and dragged a hand over his face. 'You understand, don't you? How much someone can mean to you, and how you can't stop yourself loving them even when you need to? I can see it on your face.'

Lukas didn't answer. He didn't know what to say. Antonio understood.

'You want to know about that night where he came back for us, don't you. I'm sure you've heard about Kalmar going for his eye,' he said casually. 'I don't know why I stopped him.'

'Mathias should have done it.' The name just slipped out, but Antonio didn't react except for a small smile.

'He told you his name?' he asked. It wasn't a question so much as confirmation.

'The first time we met.' Lukas buried his hands further into his pockets. After a moment of silence, he picked up the gloves and deliberately slid them on. Antonio nodded.

'Fall in love with the right people,' he repeated. 'Mathias doesn't understand how to stop fighting a hopeless fight.'

'I know.'

'And you stay by him?' It wasn't a question. Antonio smiled sadly. 'I can drive you down the headquarters if you need. Before I go.'

'Thank you.' Lukas carefully placed the camera behind the counter and followed him outside. Antonio was a better driver, and he looked better with the wind and the early daylight.

He dropped Lukas off a block from the bar, and Lukas turned to say goodbye, but what he said instead was 'I don't want to be the last person who sees you alive.'

'You won't be. The colonel will be.' He flashed a grin.

'You know what I mean. Stay safe for Romano.'

Antonio dropped his gaze and rubbed at the steering wheel of his car. 'Sometimes life doesn't work like that.'

'Sometimes you need to realize that you are worth more alive and fighting than as a martyr,' Lukas snapped. He spun on his heel and stalked off.

He hadn't meant to shout at Antonio. What he'd said wasn't even aimed at him. It was Mathias- it was _always_ Mathias now, because he was reckless and lied about knowing his limits.

He was still angry and shameful when he entered the bar. People looked up, but there was a mutter of the name _Kalmar_ and people settled again.

'Hey,' the voice came from by his elbow. Mathias sat up, his eyes shining blue. 'You came.'

'I did.' Lukas could feel the ridiculous, reasonless happiness wanting to make him smile, but not here. He nodded out the window. 'Come on.'

Mathias dropped his bottle and jumped up, racing out the door.

'You came,' he repeated with a brilliant smile. His hair was messy as usual and one strand curled down in front of his eyes.

'I don't mind seeing you.' Lukas itched to touch him, but he didn't. He couldn't. Not even here. 'Where do you want to go?'

'There's a building I wanted to show ya.' Mathias glanced up at him from behind his eyelashes. They were curiously pale and caught the early sun, gilding them orange and gold like the sky. Lukas looked away, his pulse loud in his ears.

'Whatever you want.'

Mathias pulled his motorcycle out from under a hidden lee and gestured for Lukas to get on. He didn't have nearly as much enthusiasm for the death machine he loved so much, but he slowly slid on. Mathias settled in behind him, and Lukas remembered another reason why the motorcycle trip had been so harrowing.

His broad chest and the muscled lines of his body pressed into Lukas' back, and his arms held him carefully in place. The sleeve rode up to show the cable-like muscles standing out in his wrist, and Lukas swallowed hard.

'So.' Mathias sounded strangely breathless. 'You want me to go a little bit slower than last time?'

'I'll pull out your ridiculous hair if you speed again,' Lukas threatened. His heart was pounding, and he couldn't tell if it was entirely from fear or not.

'Alright, Lukas.' Mathias slowly gunned the engine and eased out, building speed slowly. If Lukas kept his eyes closed, he couldn't see the reckless driving, but he could feel the heat of Mathias' skin sharply, and feel where their arms brushed across the handlebars, and feel his heartbeat pounding in tune.

'Open your eyes,' came the voice next to his ear. Lukas did, his eyes watering. They weren't speeding, and if he kept his eyes on the road, the nausea faded, but his chest was still tight and his stomach fluttering.

It wasn't their speed that was making him feel like this.

Before he could think too much more, the cycle stopped in front of a soaring gallery. Mathias parked it, knelt to fix the kickstand, and took his hand to pull him inside through the propped-open door.

'Come on,' he urged. Although his eyes still had that jubilant, juvenile sparkle, there was an intensity there, too.

When they stepped inside, for a moment Lukas forgot Mathias still held his hand. The arched roof was painted the colour of storm clouds in the north, steely and forbidding greys and blues.

'They haven't torn it down yet,' Mathias said. 'One of the old, beautiful buildings from before any of the wars.' He swept his hand along a polished cherrywood setting. 'Functionalism, that's what they call it now. It's supposed to be that buildings are only built for purpose. But sometimes things are just beautiful and you don't need reason.'

'How much do you know about architecture?' Lukas asked. Their voices got caught by the roof and came back like birdcalls.

'Too much.' They were spinning slowly, trying to take in this last place of unadulterated beauty. 'It doesn't matter now.'

'Why?' Lukas could hear the click of their footsteps drawing closer. He closed his eyes and they both slowed as their backs met. He could feel Mathias's hair tickling his neck, and his breathing through their rough clothing. 'Why aren't you an architect?'

Silence, and then hands landed on his arms and turned him around. Mathias' collar was crooked.

'I'd have loved to be an architect,' he confessed. His bare hands were faintly scarred around the knuckles. 'But, well, I'm-' He cut off, blue eyes fixing on Lukas'. 'You can't get into higher education if you're politically suspect,' he blurted. 'And I am. So I didn't get in. But I still love it, that's the thing. Architecture.' He swung his arm towards the gallery. His ears were red. 'I dreamed of designing something like this. Something people would marvel about a thousand years into the future. People from the West of the wall, because in a thousand years we will have changed.'

It was the tragedy of this, Lukas thought, that people like Mathias were scrappy street fighters rather than the brilliant artists they were underneath. Artists too often had to turn ploughshares into swords.

'You should be an architect,' he murmured. Mathias shook his head.

'Maybe in another life. Another time. Until then, just being here with you, all of it is enough for me. This is the beauty that can still be found when everything else has been stripped away. That is what I hold dear in a world full of unnecessary things.' He paused and looked at Lukas, scrutinizing, and after a long moment snorted, unhooked Lukas' cross-pin, and slid it back into Lukas' hair on his left, where it held back his bangs better. He touched his cheek.

'Did you know that the second rule of functionalism,' Mathias continued, 'is that accessories are used to enhance the beauty of the frame?'

Instead of answering, Lukas finally reached in and slid his hand into his hair. He brushed back the strand falling into his face.

'You're a madman,' he said. His voice shuddered. Mathias tilted his head.

'No more than anyone else from my circles,' he said. 'But to you, to the rest…'

'Antonio is going to die at the Wall.'

Mathias dropped his gaze. 'He is.'

'Don't go the same way.' Lukas didn't know what he was feeling. He wanted to shake him and demand things, but he also felt so brittle and icy cold he might shatter. His words froze in his throat and he was left staring into blue eyes, uselessly awaiting an answer.

'I stop fighting when the war is over,' Mathias said softly. 'It's never been over. Never will be, not in our lifetimes. Maybe, Lukas, in a thousand years.' The last word came out choked, and his eyes shimmered. 'You know I can't stop fighting.'

'I know.' Lukas was impossibly tired, exhausted down to his bones. 'But sometimes, you need to slow down.' He licked his lips. 'For me.'

Mathias laughed. He took Lukas' hand and pressed it over his heart. It beat like the wings of a caught bird.

'You always manage to checkmate me,' Mathias said. His eyelids fluttered and the dust shone in the sun between them like a faraway dance. There was a strange smile on his face, sad and a bit broken, and he leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. His skin smelled like paint and apples.

He pulled away and let go of Lukas' hand.

'I'm sorry.'

He touched his cheek. Something was rising in his chest like a great, roaring monster of want and fear and prideful confusion and something higher and braver. 'Don't be.'

He didn't remember how he got home, only that he collapsed into bed and dreamed of soaring ceilings.

0o0o0o

Mathias slumped back onto the counter and pawed for a bottle. His head hurt. He was stupid and lovesick for a Norwegian with the strangest, most incredible purple eyes.

'Kalmar?' someone asked from beside him. Mathias buried his head in his arms and waved them off. He was such a fool.

Lukas' eyes on his, unreadable and carefully blank as he touched his cheek. Mathias could read him better now, but he didn't know what Lukas had thought. He was kind enough to hide his disgust, he supposed.

He shouldn't have pushed his luck. It was amazing Lukas still wanted to be around him after Mathias had accidentally spilled out all his feelings about his preferences, but now even that was ruined because he couldn't stop wanting more.

Lukas was right. He rushed into things. He couldn't control himself around him. That was why he could be checkmated.

'Kalmar!' The voice repeated, more urgently. Mathias sat up with a growl. He hoped it was that filthy turncoat. He was itching for a fight.

It wasn't Gilbert standing at the door, though he had the same pale hair and strange eyes. It was a boy clutching a neckerchief patterned with puffins, every line of his body awkward and far too young.

'I want to join your resistance,' he said.

 **0o0o0o**

 ** _:: Stone buildings with moss and birds in the rafters_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Spoilers for the SuFin story.**

 **0o0o0o**

Lukas could admit he didn't know as much about Emil as he should. They kept out of each other's ways, stepping carefully around each other in the small apartment and only exchanging words at mealtime. Neither of them minded the quiet. Lukas didn't think he'd be able to stand a loud house, which made Mathias even stranger to him.

His head still hurt whenever he thought of him, but it didn't- it _couldn't_ matter now. He would go back and talk to Mathias again when he thought that his head wouldn't split open from being near his storm system, and everything would go back to normal.

Still, he'd been calling for ages and Emil was nowhere to be found. Lukas wanted to shrug it off because Emil was old enough to go for a walk by himself, but he was still a child, and this was still a dangerous city.

Lukas didn't know what he would say to him once he found him. They didn't share their personal lives, but he needed to tell someone or something what had happened. He circled the flat again, but Emil was nowhere to be found. He sat down at the rough kitchen table, flattening his gloved hands out over and over.

'Mathias kissed me,' he said into the emptiness. The words lingered, filling the air for a long moment, ringing like church bells.

The door scraped open and Lukas jumped from his seat, oddly heated and full of a jumpy energy. He shook away the afterimages and hastily pulled the gloves off, carefully hiding them in his pocket before he stood in front of the door. Emil stared up at him, blinking, clutching his old puffin neckerchief.

'Where were you?' Lukas asked before Emil could speak about anything he saw in Lukas' face or what he might have heard.

His expression wavered, secrets showing in the pauses between fear and caution before he forced it down, his mouth pressed into a solid line. 'It doesn't matter.'

Lukas should ask again. He had a whisper, a flicker of how it could have been if he'd taken more interest in his life, knew his brother better, if he'd spoken first that day his mother brought him home as a shaking, pale-faced ten year-old clutching a puffin toy. His half-brother from an Icelandic man, even though they now both held his mother's name. _Bondevik_.

But things had gone how they had, and the Wall still stood and Lukas was still braced against the door, his brother glaring up at him with wide, pale eyes.

'I just want you to be careful,' Lukas said quietly. He dropped his gaze, hands twisting around the neckerchief. Lukas stepped back and let him in, reaching to shut the door. Emil brushed past him as he did, and Lukas caught a whiff of acrid smoke and vodka, something strangely familiar.

Emil trudged off to his room, and Lukas brushed it away, almost relieved. If his brother was only sneaking out to smoke and try a few sips of cheap vodka...well, it could be worse. It could be something like him.

That night, when he made supper, he called Emil in instead of waiting. As his brother settled down at the table, Lukas thought he looked more relaxed, slack around the edges in relief.

'Good day?' Lukas asked. Emil started, tugging at his puffin scarf.

'Yeah. I think.' He breathed out deep, stretching his hands rhymically against the table just like Lukas had done. He wondered for a moment if their mother had done it as well. 'You?'

'Good.' He touched his cheek again. It felt like a dream.

They spent the rest of the meal in silence, like usual, but it felt more companionable than normal and Lukas felt a bit better.

0o0o0o

Mathias was going to see Berwald again. He didn't see him nearly as often as he used to, with the whole issue of the Wall and Lukas. He left Berwald mostly alone now as long as their names never made it into the paper, but today he needed to talk. His head was swimming.

When he knocked on the door, Berwald opened it abruptly, looking as wrecked as Mathias had ever seen on his stony expression. It was unnerving.

'Hey, Ber. It's been a while, hasn't it?' He grinned, elbowing him in the ribs, feeling as unsteady as if he was the one being pushed. 'What do you say we go drinking? You never have enough fun. Always working too hard.' He glanced at the piles of papers in the back, where he cut out the parts the Stasi didn't want being seen.

''M...busy,' Berwald said. His eyes were hollow and showed shadows. 'You need t' go.'

'You're coming with me to talk,' Mathias said forcefully, his own desperation showing through. 'It's about someone. They're... _he's_ important.'

Berwald's tired blue eyes snapped to his face, and after a long, tense moment, he nodded, looking older.

'Just...g've me a moment,' he muttered, shutting the door. Mathias shoved his hands in his pockets and gritted his teeth against the wind. Finally, the door opened again and Berwald set off on a brisk walk, head ducked into the stiff collar of his blue coat. Mathias hurried to catch up, following him through the streets.

They found themselves in a smoky bar hidden in the backstreets, roaring with noise and fights brewing. Strangely, Mathias felt himself relaxing, and he ordered them drinks. Berwald huddled into himself in the corner, eyes sweeping the bar before they landed on Mathias.

'Who 's it?'

'Lukas,' he said, before remembering that he couldn't capture the entire perfect, confusing tangle that Lukas was in just his name to people who hadn't met him yet.

Berwald almost imperceptibly raised an eyebrow. Mathias shoved his drink at him, and he dragged his fingertips down the condensation, making raindrop trails. 'Well?'

Mathias might have felt at ease in this rough bar, but that didn't mean he was stupid about these kinds of things, as much as it might seem. He took a deep drink and whispered, 'I kissed him.'

Berwald's hands jerked on the glass, and he took a long time responding. When he did, it was careful and measured.

'Did he n't like it?'

'I don't know.' Mathias admitted. 'I told him about it. My preferences. And he was fine, said he wants to see me again and everything, but I had to go and fuck it up, didn't I?' He was too loud, his shame and frustration with himself bursting out. His throat felt raw and his muscles hurt with tension and his eyes stung. 'Couldn't just _leave it_ , had to keep fucking wanting and ruining any good thing I manage to get!'

It felt better after he'd shouted, the burden gone, blank for a moment. His breathing came hard. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and he noticed the bar had gone quiet. He turned to face the man, already sizing him up, ready for the blow. He'd take on anyone right now.

'You having problems, mate?' the British soldier asked good-naturedly. Mathias didn't understand for a second, still readied for a fight before the words came through.

'Problems?'

'With whoever you got with.' He glanced over to Berwald. 'Him?'

'Ber?' That broke him from his anger. Mathias almost laughed. 'Hell no.'

The soldier looked him over. He had interesting forest green eyes, Mathias noticed, reminding him of Lukas' pine smell before he waved the rest of the men off, and slowly the bar filled with its usual noise.

'Gal problems or not?' he asked quietly. Mathias hesitated. He could feel Berwald's eyes on his back.

'Not. If you've got a problem…'

'Would be hypocritical of me if I did.' He grinned. 'I've got my Kiwi, you've got…'

'Lukas,' he said. It was odd how saying it so such an odd, foreign soldier made him feel better. 'If he'll still have me.'

'Isn't that the question in the end?' His new friend's eyes crinkled around the edges, and his wild strands of hair flopped back. 'How about I buy you and your tall friend a drink and we work on how to get you to stop causing a racket in the only bar in the East that serves the beer I like. My free time's up soon anyways, and I'll have to go back.'

He waved Berwald over, and they settled down next to the soldier. Next to him was a slight man with light auburn curls almost like ram's horns.

'My Kiwi,' he said with a grin. 'From New Zealand. I'm from Australia, myself, but we're both in the British army now. Kind of fortunate if you think about it, since I found him.'

'Is his name really Kiwi?' Mathias asked.

'No, but that's what you can call him.'

Berwald leaned forward. 'Y'r from the West,' he said suddenly. His voice was low and rumbling, and his eyes were flinty. Kiwi eyed him and nodded.

'We can't take people over. The guards check. We've tried.' He shook his head apologetically. 'We're sorry.'

'I don't w'nt to go,' Berwald said fiercely, and Mathias understood what he would say before he said it. 'There's some'ne, a man there. His n'me is Tino.'

The Australian met his gaze, face creased. 'Is he yours?'

'Yours?' Berwald said sharply.

'You know what I mean.' His forest-green eyes were intense, and finally, Berwald jerked his head in affirmation. The man nodded, and held out his hand.

'I'm Jett,' he said.

'Berwald.' They shook, and Jett smiled.

'I'll take him something. A message, or-'

'Music.'

'Music?' Jett frowned. 'He can get music there that's better than any stuff here.'

'He'll underst'nd.'

He nodded, lips pressed together as he glanced at the clock on the wall. 'If you're sure. I'll be here for another hour. I don't think I can come back, though, there's been trouble with the border recently.'

Even this small hint of the West was fleeting. 'We know,' Mathias answered. Berwald stood, locking eyes with him for a moment, and he nodded to Jett hastily before following him outside.

'Hey, Ber?'

He was smoking, which surprised him. He thought he'd been trying to quit. Berwald slumped back against the wall and groaned.

'I want h'm,' he said brokenly. The cigarette glowed at his fingertips.

'I know.' There was no way to comfort him, to assure that everything would be better. There was only the bitter grey of today and the paint you could throw across it, trying to colour your existence so brightly that someone else would notice.

'I hate it,' Berwald murmured. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, closing his eyes as the smoke wreathed through his hair. His whole body shuddered for a second, and then he pulled it out and threw it viciously across the concrete. He crumpled, shoulders curving in. The ember smoked silently red in the dark. All Mathias could do was hold on.

'I'm sorry,' he said hopelessly.

'Y' can't come by anym're,' Berwald said into the curl of his arms. 'They'll f'nd you.'

'Ber, don't be ridiculous.' Mathias tugged at his arm, annoyed. 'I'm _Mathias_. Mathias fucking Køhler. They'll never beat me.'

'The colonel,' he said clearly. Mathias knew he was right, in a sinking, freezing sort of knowledge, but he shoved him and laughed. He couldn't let himself admit that.

'Go home, Ber. And then get your music and do what you need. I'm fixing everything.' He slapped him on the shoulder and strode back inside, not looking back. His neck prickled, and he couldn't focus, but he had to do this. He had to.

'You never told me your name,' Jett noted. Mathias hoped his smile didn't look strained.

'Call me Kalmar,' he said. Jett leaned back against the bar, remarkably relaxed.

'Did you get your issue sorted?'

'No,' he admitted, sitting down and taking Berwald's untouched beer. Jett hummed.

'Your Lukas. Tell me about him.'

'Lukas?' Mathias laughed, unsure how to even begin. 'He runs a film shop. And he's got gorgeous eyes and he likes me, even though I keep screwing up. I ask him for dangerous things and he says yes, and I think I'd give him anything.' He paused. 'And he doesn't like motorcycle rides.'

'He sounds good.'

'He is. Good man.' The words stuck in his throat, and Mathias took another drink to hide it. 'I'm scared of losing him.'

'You can't control what anyone does.' Jett drank, half-lidded eyes following the boards of the ceiling. 'If I could, the damned Wall wouldn't be up and I'd be at home.'

Mathias laughed and dropped his head onto his folded arms. He was tired, and comfortable, and Jett's company was free of guilt. The bar was warm. 'If I could, ya think the wars never would have started?'

'You're a pacifist?' Jett asked. Mathias met his gaze.

'I want a better world.'

'Ah.' He nodded, and slumped down as well. 'You're a good man, Kalmar.'

He laughed to stop himself from disagreeing. The kid he'd let join still prickled at him. He had to get him out again.

'Your Lukas.' His eyes opened again, trying to focus on Mathias' face. 'It'll turn out better than you think. Maybe it's the sort of inevitable thing for you two, you know? Like war, or art, or that hunk of concrete coming down.'

'You think so?' Mathias asked, unsure which one he meant. The suggestion that him and Lukas would be anything still filled him with fluttering nervous energy, the spark of possibility.

'Yeah. You know, if the Wall hadn't happened, me and Danny wouldn't have, either, and he's the best damn thing I've got.' Jett's eyes slid closed, and his head drooped down to the mahogany.

Kiwi- or Danny, he realized- sighed and draped his coat over him.

'He's got a point,' he said. 'The way you talk about him and all.'

'Really?'

'Really.' He gazed fondly at Jett. 'You said you kissed him. Did he punch you or something?'

'No.' Mathias hunched in, ashamed. 'He said not to be sorry. And then I left.'

He snorted in disbelief. 'Better than us.'

'What happened?' Mathias asked, curious despite himself.

'We were drunk. I thought he was mugging me, so I kneed him.' He gestured, and Mathias winced.

'Ouch.'

'Ouch indeed.' But his expression softened again. 'I think you'll be okay with him, Kalmar.'

He grabbed a vodka bottle left unattended and drank, trying to brace himself. The hot rush of alcohol woke him up. 'Yeah. I'll...maybe I'll see him again. Thanks, Kiwi.'

He smiled. 'Call me Danny.'

He left the bar and walked to the garage to swing onto his motorcycle, feeling slightly, ridiculously hopeful. If he could stay friends with Lukas, life would continue as normal and everything would be fine again, even if he missed the heat against his front when he sped through the streets and dreamed of those dark blue eyes. It would be fine. It had to be fine.

It was only then that he realized what was bothering him when he'd spoken to Berwald. He'd sounded like Gilbert.

 **0o0o0o**

 ** _:: Luxury in simple things_**


	6. Chapter 6

Mathias was exhausted and every part of him felt full of faults and blame. Berwald called him stupid and reckless, and he was- he couldn't help the thrill of the resistance, and when he was caught up in it, the rush like it had been when Gilbert was still theirs and the world seemed poised and ready to be devoured like the moon on the rooftops, he stopped thinking.

The boy slipped in the door and the tension crackled through the room. Mathias dropped his head into his hands and groaned. He shouldn't have let him join, but he was persistent and stubborn enough to be dangerous, and the colour of his eyes reminded him of Lukas. He didn't want to think of that, either.

'Come over here, kid,' he called, motioning. He slipped through the scattered crowd silently, barely causing ripples in the knots of people. Mathias looked him over with an evaluating eye, wondering if he would be good at stealing from the Soviets, before he stopped himself.

'Kalmar,' he said politely, sitting down. His puffin-patterned scarf was wrapped up around his lower face again. Mathias winced.

'Kid, listen. I shouldn't have let you join.'

His eyes hardened with stubbornness. 'I want to fight.'

'I know. Believe me, I know.' He dragged a hand through his hair and down his face. He couldn't look into his accusing eyes. 'But you're- what are you? Sixteen? You've got a whole life ahead of you, could go to university and become-'

His eyes were flinty and sparking with anger. 'It won't be worth anything if every second of my life is controlled by the Stasi.' He lifted his chin. 'And I'm almost nineteen.'

God, he could see himself in this kid, every word and passionate, frustrated outburst. That was the worst part. He'd had a future once, too, but he'd chosen to fight instead. He didn't regret it, but he'd never wish his life on someone else.

'I don't make a business in ruining kids' lives,' he said, forcing steel into his words, harsh and careless like people always thought he was. 'Don't you have a family? You are a _kid_. It was a mistake to let you join us. You'll die out there acting like this and I won't have your blood on my hands when it happens.'

He flinched, but pure anger was written all over his face. 'I'm going to fight this regime. If you won't let me join, I'll do it myself.' He stood up, loathing in every motion, and stalked out, the door rattling behind him.

People noticed him leave, of course. People muttered, and asked too many questions, until one of them, a young boy who shouldn't have been with them except that he had nobody else, dashed out the door behind him.

Mathias stared after them, trying to blink away the afterimages, and promptly turned on the person manning the bar.

'Get me a fucking vodka,' he barked. They passed him one and he ripped the cap off and drank, taking savage pleasure in the burn. The kid was safe. That was all that mattered. Besides, he still had Berwald, technically, even if he'd never ask him for help. He still had some honour.

0o0o0o

Lukas stood behind the counter on the usual quiet day, thinking of Mathias' kiss. It drifted between his dreams, memories of warm hands against him and the brush of lips. He always woke up breathless right before Mathias touched him.

It had never been hard to bring Mathias to his thoughts, but now Lukas couldn't stop thinking, or more importantly, _wanting_. He needed to get his mind off it, but nothing happened in the film shop.

He ended up turning the camera over and over in his hands to entertain himself. _Carpe diem!_ sang the back, over leather polished to a shine with the wear of hands. He shouldn't have been handling it in broad daylight, let alone click off the lights and go into the back room to develop it. If he was being honest with himself, he was curious what the photos were, and he desperately needed a distraction.

He submerged the film in the solution and had left to let it work when the door jingled and a boy slipped in, right around Emil's age, with a wiry grace and unfamiliar clothes. His eyes roamed the shop, taking in every detail, before they settled on Lukas.

'Is Emil here?' He had an unfamiliar accent as well, almost English.

'No,' Lukas said, wary of why he knew his brother's name. 'Why do you need him?'

'I want to talk to him.' He examined the few records lying on the shelf, fingertips hovering just above the grooves, but Lukas could feel that his attention never wavered. 'You're his brother, right? When will he be around?'

'Why?'

The boy fixed him with an even stare, brows furrowed over faintly hazel eyes. He held out a small, beaten silver charm looped on a braided blue and red thread. 'Can you tell him Leon was here to see him?'

Lukas didn't want to, but he accepted the small trinket regardless. Leon nodded, almost like a bow, and left again.

Once he was safely out of sight, Lukas examined the bracelet. It was worn and simplistic, fashioned in the shape of a small bird. There was a tightly folded piece of paper wedged under the weaving of the strap, and he pried it out and opened it. There were completely unfamiliar characters written in neat vertical lines. He carefully folded the note again, replaced it, and went to go check on the photographs.

He didn't know what he expected from them, but it certainly wasn't Romano looking happier than he'd ever seen, half-amused or delighted or unabashedly smiling. Had Antonio taken them? He must have, and every one felt so genuine and tender that even holding them felt like a violation of someone else's lives. He quickly replaced them in a small box and stowed it under the counter. His chest felt tight. It was only after he was holding the bracelet again that he realized all of the feeling centered around every memory of Mathias. All they'd had was too many instances of being maddeningly not close enough and one kiss. Lukas wanted more.

He dropped the bracelet back in his pocket and started for home. First, he'd deal with whoever Leon was, and then he could maybe go see Mathias again. The thought brought a pleasant warmth, and he allowed himself a small smile at last.

0o0o0o

'Emil,' he called when he got home, turning on the stove to heat up some food. 'I have something for you.'

He appeared in the kitchen, hair tousled. His eyes were red-ringed and his mouth was twisted in anger. Lukas dropped the spoon in concern.

'What happened?'

'Nothing happened.' Emil dropped down on the table, glaring into the wood grain.

'Emil-'

'I'm fine!' He buried himself back into his arms, anger radiating off of him. 'It's fine.'

Emil was one of the most stubborn people he knew when in one of his moods. It would be pointless to pursue that now. Instead, Lukas dug in his pocket and carefully laid the bracelet on the table.

'Someone gave me this for you.' He glanced over in what he hoped was a casual gesture, and saw his eyes go wide. He turned off the heat and scrutinized him. 'Someone called Leon dropped it off at the film shop today.'

Emil's face went white, then rushed red all the way to his ears and down his neck.

'What did he say?' he asked, an odd desperate note in his voice. 'Did he- did he mention me?'

'He asked me to tell you he'd been in to see you.' Lukas studied him closely. 'How do you know him?'

'I met him a while ago,' he muttered. He picked the bracelet up, cradling it like it was made of gold thread and diamonds. When he spotted the note in the weaving, he carefully slid it out and unfolded it. The strange characters must have made sense to him, because his eyes scanned the page ravenously.

'What kind of bird is it?'

'A gyrfalcon,' Emil said softly. He drank in the unfamiliar words like moonlight and water, then carefully folded it again and put it in his jacket's inner pocket before sliding the bracelet on. 'I need to...I mean, can I go somewhere?'

Lukas was more than suspicious now, but he wanted to see Mathias again, and he knew Emil would find a way to get out if he refused.

'Just stay safe.'

'I'm always safe.' He gave him a rare smile as they put on their coats and shoes. Lukas watched him sprint down the street before locking the door and turning down the alley to a familiar bar.

The bar was oddly still, with only a few blurry shadows in the dusty windows. Lukas slowed down, fearing that the Stasi or Red Army had finally found them.

'Hey, Lukas,' came the hoarse voice. Mathias was smoking against the building outside, eyes shadowed. Seeing him again made all his feelings rise back to the surface, as bright and confusing as they'd been that day in the empty building. Tension snapped between them like static.

'Who's in there?'

'Not many people right now.' Mathias rubbed a hand over his jaw. He had the faintest hint of stubble, and Lukas wondered what it would be like to kiss him like that. The thought lingered. 'Rough night.'

'What happened?'

'I let a kid join. Don't worry, he's gone now.' Mathias tipped his head back and rested it against the brick. He stubbed the cigarette out and flicked it through his fingers meditatively. 'You know what's the worst part? I saw so much of myself in that kid. A whole future ready to be ruined and too much fight to be good.'

He wanted to run a hand through his hair. A smile ghosted across Mathias' face, but it faded.

'I've been thinking,' Lukas said. His voice sounded scratchy and strange to him.

'About what I did?' He laughed tiredly and rubbed a hand through his forelock, making it curl up. 'God. I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it- except that's a lie. I know why.' He blinked, wavering. 'Because the first time I made you smile it turned my mad life upside down. There was my whole world, there in you, and I'd do anything to see it every day. Lukas, oh my God, you scare me shitless.'

'I scare you?' All he could think of was those moments he'd seen of other people's affections, and his inconceivable bravery. 'You're a fighter. Mathias, you're _you_.'

'You must think that's stupid. I think it's stupid. The whole Stasi doesn't scare me half as much as you do.'

'Why?'

He looked bemused. 'I know how to fight. I know it too well. With you, I'm scared I'll screw something up- hell, that I already have, like that…'

'Kiss.' His cheek tingled again.

'Yeah.' Hesitancy played in his expression. 'Do you hate me for it?'

'I don't hate you.' His throat was dry in the smoky alley air, and he licked his lips. Mathias' gaze dropped to his mouth and took a long time coming back up.

'I thought...oh. Lukas.' He laughed, the lines around his eyes loosening, but there was still a faraway sadness. 'Can we still be…'

Friends? What were they to each other? Lukas wanted it to be so much more than friends. Mathias felt part of him, a spark in the heart of this city. He nodded abruptly, and Mathias relaxed.

'I got you something. Just in case you did hate me.' His hand curled in and out of a fist in the pocket of his coat. 'It's stupid, but…'

'Lucky I like that.'

His eyebrows shot up in delight for a second before he gently dropped a bunch of fabric into his hands. Lukas unfolded a red and blue scarf, striped like a Norwegian flag.

'Bondevik is a Norwegian name, right?'

'Yes.' He wrapped it around his neck, hiding the smile in the warm folds. The gift was good, but the fact that it was from Mathias made him flutter. 'Where did you get this?'

'Feliks used to knit things for me. Besides, I want to make sure you stay warm.'

'Thank you,' Lukas said honestly.

'Do you like it?' Mathias asked. He wouldn't meet Lukas' eyes. Shadows played across his face, rosy and golden, highlighting the dip at the base of his throat. His expression was so ridiculously hopeful, pained with love.

'You know I love-' The word _you_ caught. 'Anything from you.'

'Really?' He tucked a trailing end of the scarf into his coat. His knuckles were white with cold, and on impulse, Lukas took it and pressed it to his lips.

In the silence, Mathias' stared down at it, and spoke slowly.

'Have you ever had a moment where life seems to whisper words in your ear? It terrifies you and makes your heart race but you want to do whatever it's saying?'

His heart was pounding. 'What's it telling you?'

'To kiss you again. Properly.' His mouth twitched up in an awkward, terribly endearing way. 'Should I?'

Lukas tangled a hand in his windswept hair and grabbed one of his broad shoulders and pulled him down. Mathias made a low noise deep in the back of his throat that sent shivers up and down Lukas' spine. He couldn't speak, mouth warm where his breath brushed across it. One of his broad hands tugged down the wool scarf to press their lips together, and one steadied in the small of his back, insistent and hungry and incredible, leaving him lightheaded.

'I've been waiting to do that,' Mathias whispered, '- _for so long_.'

'We better make up for it, then,' Lukas said. It was worth it to see him smile.

 **0o0o0o**

 ** _:: Strings of lights on polished wood_**


	7. Chapter 7

Romano arrived at the shop.

Lukas had been thinking- daydreaming, if he could call it that, about Mathias. He was attracted to him, that was easy, even to his lion hair and his motorcycle habits but he liked him, _loved him_ if he was allowed to even think the fearsome words. His bravery and his stubbornness and his clear blue eyes, like the skies far north.

He dropped the edge of his scarf when Romano came in. He'd been absentmindedly always touching it. For a moment, the bartender and him only stared at each other, and Lukas was shocked by the anguish on his face.

'Anto- he said he left you photos,' Romano rasped, sounding like he couldn't bear to hear the name. 'Do you have them?'

Lukas opened the drawer and retrieved the film, walking it over to him, more and more concerned. Romano's eyes were bloodshot hazel. He took them with eagerness to the point of hunger, hands raw red over the knuckles. It felt like ages since they'd seen each other on those long-ago booze runs, and they'd both changed enough that Lukas could barely recognize the before.

'His camera,' Romano said, breaking the weighted silence. 'Did he leave it here? Can I have it?'

Lukas silently handed over the camera as well. He'd looked through a magazine to find the brand of the old, heavy Contaflex, nothing special except for how Romano cradled it like it was made of gold. He brushed a thumb over the white grease pencil on the back, mouthing the words. _Carpe diem!_ Seize the acts of your own life, paint and shout and make your mark no matter what. Lukas was starting to understand that.

'You idiot,' he murmured, nearly crooning. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

'Romano,' he began, not sure what he could say. His shoulders shook abruptly and he carefully, tenderly tucked the camera and film under his coat before facing him. His gaze was lucid and too old, too tired, sparking with a rage that echoed in every movement. He looked like he was ready to fight just like Antonio.

'My name is Lovino,' he said, voice shuddering but not cracking. He raised his chin, lips pressed into a trembling, stubbornly brave line. 'Lovino Vargas. Remember that. Tell Antonio, if...if you see him again.'

He paused, rocking back onto his heels, defiance and uncertainty battling in his expression.

'Someone should know, at least,' he murmured. He gathered his coat, dipped his head, and left. Lukas watched him until his dark curls, half-huddled by the collar of his coat, were lost in the grey concrete buildings.

Lovino Vargas. He weighed the name, the steely anger in every movement, trying to figure out why it disturbed him the way it did. False names weren't uncommon if someone was hiding, or escaping, but for someone running a bustling bar…

It thudded into him and Lukas felt sick. Lovino was an informant. Did Mathias know? Did _Antonio_ know? He wanted to run after him and demand to know what was happening, but something held him back. He'd seen that flinty anger in Antonio before, back when he didn't know he was anything but the sunny photographer who came by, and it made Lukas think- or hope as foolishly as he could- that maybe Lovino was on their side after all.

He gathered his things and locked the shop. There would be no more customers today, this late, and he needed to clear his head. He walked home, absorbed in musing, turning familiar problems and Lovino's anger over and over until they all wore smooth as pebbles hanging in a steady weight around his neck. He rubbed the knitting of his scarf between his fingers and pushed the problems away until tomorrow. At home, his only problems were his little brother's wellbeing and always Mathias, but he'd started to figure out the latter more and more.

He unlocked the front door and dropped his coat on the peg by the door. He left the scarf on, comforted by the soft warmth, and reached for the lights and realized they were already on, which wasn't usual.

'Emil,' he called, walking into the living room, 'I'm home.'

Emil abruptly broke away from the boy he was kissing on the couch and let go, eyes wide, mouth working furiously. Lukas' head was still five steps behind in the cramped hallway, trying to work through the sudden, choking _anger_ that bloomed in his chest.

'You're not supposed to be home so early,' Emil snapped. He tugged up his puffin neckerchief, but Lukas caught the motion and the dark bruise on his neck. He grabbed his arm, numb all over, and finally saw who he'd been with. Leon met his eyes defensively, hands clenching in the fabric of his trousers.

'How long has this been going on?' he asked. Emil's brows drew down and he wouldn't answer. Lukas pulled him up to face him, surprised suddenly that they were closer in height than he'd remembered.

'It's none of your business.'

'How _long_ ,' he demanded, voice gone icy and harsh like he used to be, before he promised he'd never act that way to his brother. It made him feel even worse. Emil glared at him, full of fire and spite.

'Since before the Wall,' he spat. Leon sat up on the couch, glancing worriedly at Emil. Lukas let go abruptly, feeling wrong and out of place in his own skin, shaking with rage. He didn't want to believe that he hadn't known for _months_ , but Emil had grown in so many ways and he hadn't wanted to believe it.

He pointed roughly to their kitchen table.

'Explain everything. Now.'

'I don't have to explain anything to you!' Emil shouted, one hand curling into a fist, the other twined with Leon's. 'It's none of your business, especially with you sneaking off all the time to-' His face contorted, red and hurt. 'Be with some girl or someone.'

With those words, the irrational burst of anger cooled. He gathered himself and sat down first, hands palm-up on the table in a gesture of openness. He hadn't been fair to Emil. They hadn't so much as _talked_ for ages, and it was his fault.

'Sit down,' he said. 'Please.'

Emil hesitated, glancing at Leon. They seemed to come to an agreement. 'Only if he can stay.'

Lukas instinctively wanted to refuse, but he knew it would be worse if he fought. He nodded, and they cautiously sat down. Leon pulled an armchair closer and sat to the side, near Emil.

Lukas took a deep breath, trying to work through his knot of feelings. Emil shuffled his chair closer and laid his hands on the table as well, mirroring him. He was wearing the gyrfalcon bracelet.

'You said this has been going on since before the Wall,' he began. Emil nodded. He turned to Leon, surprised but relieved in some way that none of his anger was directed at the young boy. It was all towards himself, and his decisions. 'I don't suppose we've been properly introduced. I'm Emil's brother. Lukas Bondevik.'

'Wang Jia Long.' He paused. 'You can call me Leon Wang.'

'How did you and Emil meet?'

Emil shifted in his seat, ears going redder. 'I had a sort of job before the Wall. A dance troop.'

It was the first he was hearing of it. 'In the East?'

'No, in the West. At a club. That's where we met.'

'My older brother Yao helped to run the club,' Leon interjected. Lukas frowned.

'Why aren't you with him in the West now?'

Silence. Emil dropped one of his hands to hold his, and Leon smiled hesitantly at him.

'We didn't always get along. Yao was strict- is strict,' he amended. 'All I was allowed to do was study, and so I snuck out one day, just as a prank, so I could see the East.' The light humour in his voice fell away. 'When I tried to go back...the border was closed.'

Lukas was horrified. He couldn't imagine a _child_ having to go through that, and guilt twisted in his stomach at the comparisons between Yao and him. If Emil had been trapped across the Wall, he would save him or die trying. 'Where are you staying? Do you have anyone else?'

Emil and him shared a look, like they were evaluating how much to say.

'There's an organization of sorts I stay with,' Leon reassured him. 'I send letters to Yao. There's nothing we can do, and it's not so bad.'

'You can stay here,' Lukas said impulsively. Emil's eyes went wide again, and he gripped Leon's hand. The boy looked like he'd just been given the world, all guardedness gone from his face. He looked so hopeful, even as his eyes crinkled around the edges as he tried to hide it. Nobody that young should already think something was too good to be true the way he did. Kids deserved to be safe.

'There's a spare mattress somewhere,' Lukas remembered, looking around to figure out where to put it. 'If Emil cleans his room for once, maybe we could put it on the floor there.'

'I can't do that to you,' Leon protested. 'I don't want to be a burden.'

Lukas waved it away. 'I know how to get more food.'

'About that,' Emil interjected, even though his face was glowing and he looked so _happy_ that Lukas felt like he could finally breathe. 'Where do you get the food? And...and you don't _mind_ , about me and Long Jia- I mean, me and Leon?'

The secret was easier to keep after so long having it. It had felt like a warm, private, wonderful thing that was his alone, but he had to trust some people, and who if not his brother? He sighed and brushed the tassels of his scarf through his fingers.

'I don't mind, Emil.' He'd had his suspicions, but he didn't mention them. 'I've been meeting with someone. His name is Mathias.'

Emil's eyebrows shot up into his hair, surprise and confusion and a kind of bright joy flashing across his face. ' _His_ name?'

Lukas let himself smile, however wearily it was. A great weight seemed to be lifting off his chest. 'I help him out with transport or buying things, nothing special.'

'Did he give you that scarf?' Emil interjected. His little brother looked downright giddy with happiness, and Lukas drank in his loose, relaxed, happy expression.

'He might have.' He fluffed his brother's hair, making him sputter, something he hadn't done in years. A tension he hadn't known was weighing on him was gone, and he could smile. 'Go find that mattress, okay? I'll call in to get a bed frame done soon.'

Emil bounded off, for the first time looking his age, a happy eighteen year old kid who wasn't starving or stressed or sleepless. Lukas grabbed Leon's wrist as he made to rise. Leon settled back down, more serious.

'Take care of him,' Lukas insisted. 'Don't let yourselves get caught for stupid reasons. The prison terms won't be lighter just because you're young.'

'I know.' He adjusted in the seat, and Lukas caught the flash of a red leather watch band on his wrist, tooled faintly with a five-petaled flower design. It had Emil's handiwork in every part of it. Lukas couldn't help but admire the affection in every worn part.

'He made this?'

'He's very talented at it.' He seemed to be trying to find a better way for the words. 'From what I've seen, he has more passion at working at things like this than studying to go to university.'

Lukas nodded. It seemed he had more things to discuss with Emil, but what mattered was that they could talk now. 'Thank you.'

'I apologize for hiding this from you,' Leon said, gripping his hand. For someone so young, he had old eyes, wise eyes. 'Emil thought it would be better, and I've always been...scared, I think, of people finding out I was like this.' He looked away, mouth twisting in shame.

'Don't apologize,' Lukas said firmly. 'It was my fault.'

He let him go. His whole body opened up and _breathed_ as he turned to go to Emil.

'I'm glad you're with my brother, Wang Jia Long.'

He smiled and inclined his head in a slight bow.

'If you'll let me, I'll do my best to make him happy.'

Emil tumbled back into the room, hair still a mess. He looked between Leon and his brother and grinned with relief. Lukas raised his eyebrows at him and the way both of them automatically reached out to hold hands.

'I suppose we should get some ground rules,' he said forbiddingly. 'First of all, do your best to keep the noise down.'

'Lukas,' Emil complained furiously, face flushing.

'Second,' Lukas continued, struggling to hide his smile. 'The living room is a communal space, so if someone else is home or _coming home_ and you need to do something, you might have to choose a different room.'

Emil had his face in his hands. Leon was stroking his hair and smiling.

'Third, if you need to me buy you anything, just ask-'

' _Good night, Lukas!'_ Emil shrieked, sounding utterly horrified. He nearly ran off with Leon behind him, and Lukas collapsed back at the table and _laughed_ properly for the first time in what felt like months. He buried his face in his scarf and thought of everything that was turning out better than okay.

 **0o0o0o**

 _ **:: The buzzing of a stadium full of people**_


	8. Chapter 8

Mathias was worried about Antonio.

He had a brave heart and enough passion to burn down a regime, but now he always looked like he was fearing for someone else.

He was worried about Berwald, too. His friend looked hollow and haunted and chased. He'd given him the jobs where he didn't have to fight, but _something_ had happened. He was almost glad.

He couldn't really talk, Mathias thought, thinking of Lukas and all he did to him, the sheer north-sky blue of his eyes and the way he reached into Mathias and found all the sickly storm-yellow frustration there, all his skewed trust barometers and the bruising black-blue seas of guilt every time his resistance lost a fight. How he let Mathias find the strength to calm that and made the grey concrete brighter and better than any smuggled spray paint cans.

Oh, he felt like freedom in a way Mathias had never thought of it before. The freedom where he was allowed to be gentler, where he could do ridiculous things like pick up an old forgotten knitting pattern and practice until he could finish one of Feliks' scarves. That idea was something of peacetime, which was somehow a rougher and stranger word in his mouth than _resistance_.

And by God, both were just as brave.

He smiled up at his rough ceiling, safe and solitary, away in a far-off corner of the city. He never thought anyone would have to teach him, Mathias Køhler, what bravery was, but...things had changed. For the better.

He rolled off his bed, tumbling to the floor with his coat in piles around him, still grinning and giddy because Lukas had _kissed him_ and because there were people like him out in the wide world.

'I wish you were here, Lukas,' he said to the ceiling again. Well, maybe not _here_ because it was a shitty district and the Reds flocked like crows on a battlefield. He wanted to show him Copenhagen. He wanted to show him Denmark. He wanted to be with him. It was all ridiculous, of course, because there was the Stasi and Berlin and they were stuck until the pseudo-war cooled enough to leave for the West.

He decided to be ridiculous. He was the madman of the resistance, after all, Kalmar the firebrand, and reached over to get his radio phone and try to remember if he knew a good place for food.

0o0o0o

Lukas ran his fingers over the scarf's weaving as he walked to work. He turned the corner to see someone waiting by his shop. He vaguely recognized them from Mathias' resistance bar, which was the only reason he relaxed.

'What's going on?' he asked, concerned. 'Is something wrong with Kalmar?'

'He just wanted to pass on a message,' the man explained. 'My job today's a little this way, so I offered to help out. He wants you to wait in the parking lot at the Karstadt- that's down on the Hermannplatz. Half past nine in the evening tomorrow.'

'I'll be there,' Lukas said, feeling a smile curl up on his face. He held it back for now. The man winked and pulled up his hood to go.

'You seem like a good person for him.' He nodded respectfully and slipped away, blending into the crowd of workers.

Lukas unlocked the door and went in to set up, unable to stop smiling to himself. The world went on outside the window.

Halfway through the day, Leon slipped in the door. He'd offered to help out as much as he could around the shop, even though Lukas assured him that he could handle his handful of customers. He hung up his coat, panting softly as if he'd ran all the way here.

'What did you just get back from?'

'Just a little exercise.' Leon turned around and Lukas nearly dropped the box he was carrying. There was an ugly bruise over his eye, blooming blues and greens.

'What happened? Did you get into trouble with some Reds?'

'No. I tripped.'

Lukas glared at him. Leon met his gaze with his unswollen eye, the stubbornness evident there. He looked a lot like Emil did when he didn't want to talk.

'At least put some ice on it.'

'I don't need-'

'Leon,' he interrupted. 'If you're going to be with my brother, I am going to take care of you as well.'

Leon gazed up at him, a wry amusement in his oddly old eyes. 'Has anyone ever told you that you're a lot like Emil?'

'Not enough,' he said, more honestly than he should have. He walked to the back to chip up some ice and brought it back wrapped in the cleanest rag he could find. When Leon pressed it to his eye, he groaned softly, eyelashes fluttering. There were raw scrapes on his arms.

'You are,' he said, trying to adjust the ice. 'He's the exact same way, always worrying about me.' He paused, lost in memory, the harshness of the streets falling back. Without the scratches and the wariness of someone who'd lived on the streets, he looked like a regular boy. 'I don't mind it.'

'How old are you, Leon?' Lukas asked cautiously.

'I'm nineteen now. Just turned in July.' He shifted the ice to better cover a scrape on his cheek. 'Why?

'Why does the group you're with let you work with them? If it's a question about a place to live…'

'No!' Leon's eyes suddenly flared. 'I'm with them because they're the best thing in this city. They're the only ones who make _sense_. Them and Emil.'

For a second, Lukas thought of the resistance. It drew him the same way, the only worthwhile thing in the grey.

'Just stay safe,' he said. Leon grinned at him, self-satisfied in the way only teenagers were.

'I always do.'

'My brother will be pretty mad if you get hurt any worse than this,' Lukas said. He noticed Leon's ears pink and he adjusted the ice to cover his pleased expression. 'You don't want that.'

'Yeah, I don't.' Leon peered up at him. 'I'll stay out of trouble.'

'Good kid.' Lukas' original suspicion of the boy had melted away entirely. 'He talks about you all the time now. As soon as you're out the door on your special jobs, he's off about you again.'

Leon turned away, but Lukas caught his wide smile. 'He does?'

'He likes you a lot, Leon.' He paused. 'He loves you.'

Leon beamed.

In that moment, Lukas realized that if he found a way to save Leon, to send him back to the West, he'd have to give Emil the chance to go with him. He couldn't ask for more people to be split like that. He couldn't ask Emil to choose between his love and his family.

He thought of the space that Emil was inside of him, that quiet kid with the sullen eyes, the gangly, hunched over teen, the laughing boy he was when he was happier. He wondered if he could let that go.

'He chose you well,' he told Leon.

The rest of the day was quiet, filled only by their occasional talk and mostly the comfortable quiet. Lukas found an old stub of maple he'd once used for flattening stubborn photographs, and turned it over and over in his hands. He wanted to make something for Mathias. What was it about affection being so inexplicably entwined with things you could create? It was something about art that shouted _love_ , shouted _I have fallen in love with the world and it with me_.

He flicked open his pocketknife and started carving. In the space between the steady strokes of the blade, art grew. Love grew.

If he let himself think the sentiment, he wished Mathias was with him. He wanted to hear his voice and kiss the curl of his hair away from his neck.

The next evening, he bundled himself in his scarf and coat, his carving in his pocket.

'I'll be out for a while,' he called. He could practically hear the smile in Emil's voice when he shouted back from the living room.

'Take your time.'

He walked down to the dealership, breathing in the cold clear air and letting the lights of the city wrap him up. His heart was beating faster just at the thought of Mathias. He was getting sentimental.

He waited in the parking lot, watching the twin peaks of the Karstadt glitter against the skyline. The air here was sharp and acrid in his teeth and this throbbing heart of the city glowed all night long.

He heard the growl of the engine before he saw him, and turned around to see Mathias, his Mathias, shining astride his cycle, hair sticking up in every direction. The moon lit him up silver and he looked like everything Lukas had ever wanted.

Mathias had barely popped the stand on the cycle and got off before suddenly they were running and together, Mathias' broad arms around him and his face in his neck. Lukas held him tight and kissed the spot of his shoulder where a scar showed.

'Hey, Lukas,' Mathias murmured, smiling.

'I've been waiting,' Lukas returned.

'Nah, I'm sure I'm on time. You're just early.' He glanced up, raising his eyebrows. Lukas' warmth suddenly chilled.

'What happened to you?'

'What?' Mathias touched the mess of cuts over his face. 'Been a rough few nights. Our raids have been...complicated.'

'You're bleeding,' Lukas said, fingertips hovering over the wounds, barely daring to touch. Mathis half-laughed and tilted his face up, kissing his palm.

'I know. Kiss me again?'

 _Not in public_ , Lukas should have said. Not in bustling downtown. But it was Mathias and it was Berlin and it was _them_ , their love, and so Lukas didn't say against it, and instead obliged.

'What did you do to yourself?'

'Nothing I haven't done before.' He brushed at a bruise on his jaw. 'I've had worse, darlin', don't worry.'

The few times he'd said that word before, it hadn't settled so deep into him like a purring warm secret. Lukas reluctantly let go.

'Where are we going tonight?'

'To get some food.' At Lukas' look of surprise he chuckled. 'My treat. I thought I should take you somewhere nice and proper.'

'You didn't have to.'

'I _want_ to, Lukas,' he said earnestly, gripping his hand. Every time Mathias spotted his gloves, he looked endlessly pleased with himself. Lukas rolled his eyes at him, hand prickling where he held it, and dug into his pocket.

'I made you something.'

' _You_ didn't have to!'

'Don't make me say it,' Lukas said dryly. He held out the polished swan he'd carved, suspended on a thin silver chain. 'A lucky charm for you. So you can stop getting hurt.'

Mathias reverently picked it up, turning it over.

'You carved this? It's incredible.'

'Of course. I made it for you.'

'I've never had someone make me beautiful things before,' Mathias confessed. He gently slipped the gleaming cinnamon swan over his head, resting over his heart. Lukas' throat felt oddly thick.

'I'd make you art all the time if I could.' It was ridiculous to say, but he meant it, meant it with every part of him.

He'd been falling slowly but surely for his brilliant, fierce Dane, and that was good. It was their kind of beautiful. But now, he was breathtaken and Mathias was beautiful, too, so Lukas couldn't even blame himself when Mathias's eyes or the curve of his neck or the angle of his collarbone kept appearing in the sweeping rafters of the most beautiful architecture.

'I wish, Lukas,' Mathias said softly. 'That's the kind of world I want to bring in.'

'I want that.' Peace was a faraway hope, but it was a hope, a possibility. Mathias made it a possibility.

'Do you?' He had that eager expression again, like if Lukas said he did he'd go charging off to make it happen right then. Lukas itched to touch him again.

'I can wait for it.'

'You shouldn't have to.' His eyelashes curled and took on silver in the moonlight, Lukas averted his eyes to stop from kissing him and tugged his tie.

'What are we doing tonight?'

He brightened, if it was possible. 'I've got a little place to show you. It's got good food. Good music, too.'

Lukas accepted his hand and got on the cycle, leaning back against his broad, warm chest.

'Are you going to speed again?' he teased. Mathias laughed.

'Don't tell me you aren't starting to enjoy it now!'

He enjoyed Mathias much more than his terrible driving. The wind rushed in their eyes and Mathias' mouth hovered by his shoulder as the streets veered past. It did feel like flying.

They pulled to a stop in front of a place shaking itself to pieces with the music. Tucked under the eyes of the Stasi downtown, it looked like a place to breathe like it was the West. A rare snapshot of a different life. Dangerous, and fragile, about to crumble.

It looked perfect.

'I'll go park this, you can go on inside.'

Lukas noticed Mathias was toying with the swan again.

'I'll wait for you.'

They walked in together. The bouncer at the door nodded at Mathias approvingly. As they moved deeper into the glory and glow of the dance floor, he nudged his side.

'What did it take you to set this up?'

'I had to.' In this light his bruises looked like war paint and art. 'You're worth it.'

In this dance club, people could pretend that they were in the West. It was a space where smoke and alcohol meant everyone could forget the names of whoever they touched. It was a space for quick liquid-burning nights. A selfish place in a city where selfishness was the only way to survive.

And yet Lukas was endlessly aware of Mathias across the table. He sipped at the cheap red wine, the heat of bodies twisting drawing up his spine.

'Good?' Mathas asked hopefully. His broad, scarred hand lay on the table between them and Lukas slipped his own into it, careful and awed by the gun callouses and the scrapes.

'Better than good,' he said. He wasn't talking about the heavy heat or the bite of alcohol.

The food was good and the heat whispered across their hands and down their spines. By his third glass of house red all he could focus on was the glitter of endless blue under Mathias' eyelashes and the way his mouth was stained cherry red. His lower lip was fuller and he knew what it felt like. For some reason the world drew back in the crowded space and let them have themselves.

'Here,' Lukas said, fingertips brushing under one of the worse cuts on his nose, the words spilling out with abandon. 'What happened?'

'Got thrown into a wall.' He pressed against him gently, muscled body full of street fights and lion courage. 'Your hands feel nice.'

Lukas soothed the cuts with one hand and slowly worked the other into his hair, untangling the wildness of it. His fingers came back covered in grey ash. He tugged him closer, and Mathias obeyed the fierce want inside of him and slipped to his side of the table, curling up with his head in his lap. Lukas' blood sang.

'I don't like seeing you hurt.'

'Sorry,' Mathias said, nearly smiling. Lukas could see the shine of light on his broad chest where his threadbare shirt didn't cover, and the liquid line of his neck, and there, his mouth stained with fire and wine. He wanted this. He wanted it so much, but he refused to voice that.

'Don't be. Your resistance is worth the scars to you.'

'You're worth it.' His head rolled back against his thighs, face made of planes of shadow and bright shimmering light and still so familiar. 'Once everything is okay, I promise I'll be a little more careful. For you.'

'That's a lot to promise me for you, Køhler.'

'I know,' he admitted, curling closer. His body breathed shallowly, careful of bruised ribs, and caught.

'Careful,' Lukas said, gathering his ragged body closer, aching to fix it. Mathias coughed, his teeth glinting- stained red with more than wine, for a moment, or was that just the swirling lights?

'I know,' he said again. They laid there in the dark and the music and listened to each other's heartbeats thrumming at their fingertips. Lukas dreamed of this, but it was so much more.

Lukas couldn't tell how long it was until Mathias stirred again. He'd been absorbed in the lines of his face, the half-lidded curve of his eyes. His hair was soft under his hands, his skin warm and flushed. Not like a weapon, but like a great wild creature. Every time he touched him, heat spread where they connected and Lukas wanted _more_.

'It's getting late,' Mathias said with a hint of guilt. 'The club might close soon.'

It was a lie, a kind one, where they both knew that Berlin ran lights and drinks until one in the morning and beyond. Mathias was offering a gentle way out.

'A little bit longer,' Lukas said. Mathias' weight was steady in his lap and his warmth lingered when he finally moved off.

'How about a dance?' he asked, as close to apologetic as he could get.

'I don't dance. And you're hurt.'

'Not hurt enough to stop me. And this is a good song, it's hard to get Elvis in the East now.'

They both paused to listen. Mathias softly hummed the lyrics.

' _Don't_ _ask_ _me_ _why_ …'

 _I_ _shouldn't_ , Lukas knew he should have said. _I_ _have_ _to_ _go_ _home_ _to_ _my_ _brother_.

But Emil was with Leon and they were happy, and here was liquid heat and Mathias, and their own happiness, even if simple companionship wasn't enough.

He accepted Mathias' hand and they spun slowly across the floor. Mathias looked at him like he was everything good, everything worth fighting for. His hand hesitated over Lukas' hip before gently gripping. The music twirled them around like stars on celestial tracks.

'You're good at this,' Mathias noted. His mouth was twitching towards a smile.

'It's been years since I've done this. Any of it.'

'You've had someone?' Mathias ducked his head, working on the word, an odd light darting in his gaze. He wouldn't meet his eyes, trying to hide that stormy place inside where he hurt. 'Another man? Someone like me?'

'Not like you.' Lukas drew him closer. 'I've known I was this way for years. I've never had this. Properly.'

'You told me your type wasn't madmen when we first met,' Mathias accused, but he looked like Lukas had given him the sun.

'It's not. Beautiful, fearless should-be architects, however...I think I have a weakness there.'

'I'm glad, Lukas.' His voice wavered on his name and Lukas wanted to kiss the love in his tone right from his lips. Mathias blinked, tears gathering in his eyelashes, and leaned closer. 'I'm really glad.'

The song purred, _it's not the kind of love I dream about, but it's the kind that I can't live without._

'Why?' Lukas rasped, mouth dry, needing his answer and his warmth. Mathias shone.

'Because I love you,' he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And Lukas had seen that love in his eyes a thousand times and had felt it back just as strongly, but this declaration was so good.

'I love you too,' Lukas returned, feeling so right. Their kiss felt like remaking the world, full of heat, slow and deep.

When they broke to breathe, Lukas' mouth felt bruised and wonderful. It must have looked it, too, because Mathias brushed it with a trembling thumb and when his eyes caught his they were desperate.

'It's late. I should...I should really show you my place,' he said, offering, wanting but unsure of the boundaries, always. Lukas wanted to know if he'd ever been hurt by someone he'd loved this way, something that had left so many fears when he fell for someone else. He wanted to protect him from that.

'I think I'll stay over tonight,' he said.

They rushed out, hands twined. Lukas didn't care who saw. He felt like he could take on the entire world.

'You're shivering,' Mathias said. Lukas realized he was, but he hadn't noticed. The bar had been stifling compared to the streets, but he'd adjust quickly. Before he could assure him it was fine, Mathias had shrugged out of his long dark coat and draped it around his shoulders. It was too big in some places, and heavy in the pockets where he'd stuffed it full of his tools, but it was warm with his body heat and smelled like him.

'You're going to freeze now,' Lukas predicted, reluctantly letting go of his hands to slip on the sleeves.

'I'll warm up quick at home,' he said with a wink. Lukas personally agreed, and it gave him the chance to see Mathias' broad chest in the tight undershirt, and the line of his hips. His new necklace gleamed on his chest.

'That looks good on you,' Lukas complimented.

'I could say the same.' He nodded at the coat.

Their breath made clouds in the night air. Lukas had never felt so warm or happy, walking here. He never would have thought he'd have found this sort of love and joy in East Berlin, but in a split city, you had ways of meeting people again, and finding out that everything they were made you feel alive.

'Your kid brother,' Mathias interrupted, squeezing his hand. It made Lukas nearly giddy- what was he, twelve and on his first date? 'He'll be alright?'

'How long are you planning on keeping me?'

'I'm yours for as long as you want.'

Lukas rolled his eyes at him, impossibly happy. 'He'll be fine. He'll have a good night, he's with his…'

Mathias glanced up, an unspoken question hovering on their tongues and in the heated, charged space between them.

'He's with his boyfriend,' Lukas finished with a smile. Mathias grabbed his other hand and pulled him in a delighted circle.

'Glad to know,' he said. As if by silent agreement, they started running, this last quiet barrier between them vanished and leaving only the euphoria of love.

Lukas held his hand tighter as the world spun by, and smiled for the moonlight and their love and nothing more.

 **0o0o0o**

 ** _:: Recognizing the shape of someone when they smile_**


	9. Chapter 9

Mathias' place was a messy, cramped, smoky amber room, the ramshackle shelves full to bursting with different salvaged engine pieces and paint cans and dozens and dozens of architecture sketches and manuals, spilling down the tables, pinned to the walls, in piles along the battered couch. The air was heavy with the rich scents of engine oil and spray paint.

'This is mine,' Mathias said, eyes flicking sideways to his. His broad, wine-flushed mouth quirked up, questioning. 'I know it's not much, but the bed is good.'

'Is it?' Lukas stepped forward into the space of art and breathed in. Mathias carefully shut the door behind them, and then his bright blue eyes fastened on his, intense and searching. Lukas ran his hands over one of the engines laying on a nearby table. Mathias handled it with ease.

'This is for my beauty. My cycle.' He slowly slid his coat off Lukas and set it aside next to an aging newspaper he faintly recognized. 'Best thing that bastard Gilbert ever did for me.'

'How good was he at cycling before...everything happened?'

Mathias chuckled, brows furrowed. 'He was the best. He was the best at anything.'

Lukas felt the curves of the engine under his hands. It felt ingrained with the workings of Mathias, his hands and brash love and reckless freedom. Their fingers slipped together again, calloused in all different places. He trusted his hands.

'Are you warmed up yet?' Lukas asked, with a slight roughness he was secretly pleased at. He could feel Mathias' skin hot against his, he knew the strength in his muscles, but he wanted to know it better.

'Not quite.' He smiled, hopefully, and Lukas loved it. 'How about you help me out?'

He smiled back. 'Of course.'

They wove through the workshop with hands clenched together. Lukas barely dared to look at him until they were in the half-dark of the bedroom, where there was barely more than a simple bed and bare walls. Mathias turned up the lamp, his shadow wavering on the wall, and for a long, heartstopping moment Lukas simply drank in the sight of him, and Mathias of him, like two people who had been starving for this their whole lives.

He wanted him, and he knew him, and as he traced the lines of broad shoulders and narrow hips with his eyes, it became a want like he'd never known. There had been too many times he wasn't allowed to _look_ at someone he wanted in this way.

'Lukas,' Mathias breathed, looking oddly vulnerable. He wordlessly held out his arms, and Lukas began to slip off his clothes, running fingertips over the circular imprints of cigarette burns all along his arms and chest. Mathias' mouth found his shoulder and kissed a mark there, his lion hair draping across his neck, soft and goldenrod. 'Lukas. I love you.'

He was an idiot, a hopeless lovestruck fool, to be saying that. Lukas turned his head and caught his next kiss on the mouth.

'I love you too.'

Mathias put two more marks on his neck while Lukas was getting them both out of their clothes. He could only roll his eyes at him.

'Couldn't help myself,' he said with a shameless grin. The muscles of his arms shifted like liquid, bronze in the lamplight. 'You're too beautiful for your own good.'

'Is that why you came up to me to ask for a booze run?' Lukas half-joked, but Mathias' eyes were serious.

'It's because I felt like I could trust you. And I do. I trust you with everything, Lukas, even a lot of stuff I shouldn't.' He took his hand and laid it over his chest, heart fluttering beneath his palm, the swan brushing his fingertips. 'I'm yours, too. I can't help it.'

Lukas hooked a careful finger in the chain of his necklace and drew him in. Their foreheads rested together, bodies humming with skin on skin.

'I love you,' he said quietly. 'For your bravery, for the fact that you make the future hopeful.'

'The future, huh?' Mathias' hands traced up his back, bodies moving in some sort of dance towards the bed until they collapsed onto it, Mathias' body warm against his. 'I'd like to show you Copenhagen.'

He bent down and kissed Lukas again, broad hands working across his body with a raw hunger. Everything about him shone in the amber light. Lukas traced a long scar across his torso, wrapping over his shoulder, and his eyes slid half-closed.

'You're beautiful,' he said again. His hands lingered on the parts of Lukas he never imagined anyone would look twice at, let alone Mathias. 'God, you're incredible.'

Lukas whispered it back, tracing his face, the familiar, heavy lines of it. Mathias kissed the palm of his hand in a quick movement and when Lukas blinked in pleased surprise, he grinned and sat back up, kneeling over him and rummaging in his bedside table.

There was the squeak of something being unscrewed, and the soft creak of the bed as Mathias' weight shifted. This place of shining design and bright paint was for them and their love. Mathias had paint splatters and scars and neither of them were where Lukas would have expected. He wondered if in the future there'd be more paint and less concrete.

'I wish you were an architect,' Lukas confessed. Mathias' movements paused for a second before he chuckled and kissed one of the marks on his shoulder, hair brushing his cheek.

'Me too.' He shook his head and stroked a thumb across his hip, wincing slightly in sympathy. Lukas adjusted himself and relaxed as he started to prepare him. 'Maybe- maybe in another place, another time.'

'Once the Wall falls,' he promised, to this house with the amber light and hope.

Mathias laughed, kissing his cheek. Lukas' heart was pounding, alight on the feeling of Mathias' hands and voice and the heady, incredible feel of them being together. He had done it before, but never with someone like this. Never with someone who had done what Mathias had done to him.

'Yeah, that'll be a whole new era. I think my resistance has a little more work to do before we get there. It'll be worth it, though. It'll all be worth it for you.'

Lukas gathered him close, kissing the back of his neck where it was sunburned rough. His body was lax and burning as Mathias sat back up, one hand drawing loving patterns in Lukas' hair. The very fact that he was here with Mathias in his bed, that he was doing this with Mathias, made him feel fiercely _alive_. They existed, they existed in this perfect, perfect way.

'I love you,' Mathias breathed. 'I want to give you that future, Lukas. Somewhere safe from this. Somewhere happy, where your kid brother is safe, where we can love beautiful buildings and music and each other, just like we want. I want that for you.'

'I want that,' Lukas said, and the fighter inside Mathias shone from him, endlessly loyal. He _wanted_ , he needed him. 'I want you,' he repeated. And then, 'I love you,' again and again until it became their new heartbeat.

They moved together in the bronze, everything perfect and golden and warm, everything for them alone. Mathias adored him and Lukas adored him in turn, more than anything.

The very act of knowing how much Mathias loved him made heat coil in his stomach. The maple swan spun and gleamed on its chain, clinking against itself when Mathias moved. Lukas held onto his broad shoulders, pressing a kiss to every harsh bruise and scar he could reach, everything in him singing, singing at the act of love until there was his mouth gasping his name against his hair and everything pulled tight with Mathias' on his lips a moment later.

Mathias rolled off him with a ragged noise and collapsed on the bed beside him. They were both so exhausted that they could only kiss each other, heads in the crooks of each other's necks, breathing, breathing. Lukas was so utterly sated, so _safe_ here in the curl of their arms. Here, they had each other, and it was all that mattered. Not the Wall, not the fight for the future. For now, they were allowed to have each other.

'Stay with me,' Mathias whispered. Lukas could smell his skin and paint and oil and apples. Mathias, and him, together, how a life would be like in that future. Him and Mathias and Emil, and Leon if he wanted. Safe from this world.

'I will,' he promised.

0o0o0o

When Lukas woke up, Mathias was curled around him, head against his shoulder. His mouth turned up at the corners when he was asleep, his wild hair tangled. There was a wonderful floating feeling of happiness, and Lukas was getting sentimental for him in all the best ways. He combed his fingers through his lion mane, noticing with a flush of pride and amusement the marks he'd left.

Mathias yawned awake, looking delightedly up at him.

'Hey,' he said, voice rough and adoring. His eyelashes caught the sun.

'How well did you warm up?' Lukas asked, sinking his fingers into his hair. Mathias nearly purred, stretching up. His ribs showed.

'Fantastic,' he said with a broad grin. They laid in the sunlit bed, content and reveling in themselves, until they finally roused enough to go clean off.

When Lukas was done, he sat at the counter and watched Mathias cook. They were ridiculous lovestruck fools, trading kisses between bites of thin pancakes across the old pine table, and he loved it, loved him more than he could ever say.

0o0o0o

Lukas' new way of life felt like heaven. His brother was happy with Leon and he was everything with Mathias. There was the whisper of family there, if he wanted it, if he allowed it. Meeting Mathias Køhler had changed everything.

Lukas was picking up a smuggled case of paint and handguns, moving in comfortable tandem in these weeks after their night. Mathias' hands brushed his as they stowed the package in the crumbling brick of an old building for the next attack on a guard outpost, breathing harsh through the scarves over their mouths. When they were done, having washed the smears of neon from their hands, Lukas leaned into his chest and squinted into the wind. They were going at a reasonable speed by his request, but the noise was enough to talk freely by.

'You told me once that I may as well go all in and join you,' Lukas said, leaning back against him. Mathias' hands jumped on the handlebars and the cycle rumbled.

'Lukas, don't be ridiculous. I'm not letting you get hurt.' He wouldn't meet his eyes properly, and when they slowed beside the resistance's bar, he carded a hand through his hair with a low groan.

'I've been with you this long,' Lukas said. He didn't know, not completely, what he wanted, how far he would push Mathias on this. He wanted to be part of his brighter life.

'Don't tempt me,' Mathias warned, eyes liquid dark. His hands ghosted across Lukas' chest, tracing familiar lines. 'There's too many reasons already.'

Lukas waited in the quiet, oddly comfortable in this gloaming alleyway, wind whispering through their fingers. This city had sunk into both their bones, this world of change and ridiculous hopes. Mathias glanced up at him and immediately looked away with a soft chuckle, unable to help his smile or the reddening of his ears.

'We're not supposed to fall in love with people,' he said. 'It's dangerous for us both. The Stasi would go after you if they knew about this. I went after Toni for loving someone, but God, I can't really talk.'

'I won't get hurt.'

'No, you won't,' Mathias agreed, still with a slight smile, gaze fixed on his swan, coiling the chain around his fingers. 'Because I know I'd give anything up if the Stasi had you. That's why it's dangerous.'

The wind whistled through the struts of the motorcycle parked behind them, playing with Mathias' hair.

'It doesn't have to be.'

'Lukas, you've got a kid brother.'

'And I'll fight for him, too. This makes the world a better place. We can give him a better future than ours.' Lukas took his hand. 'You can love someone who's already accepted the danger.'

Mathias laughed, choked, shaking his head slowly. Lukas could see the moment when he'd broken him, and the knowledge that all of Mathias Køhler's power was in his hands made his head feel light with love.

'If you get hurt, I'm never going to forgive myself,' he warned. Lukas swallowed the knot of emotion in his throat.

'I know.'

Mathias gathered him close, resting his head in the crook of his shoulder.

'We fight for the future,' he whispered, this intimate promise of forbidden and wonderful things, 'for the hope that some day people will have a world better than ours, some life in the blistering wonderful unsureness of freedom, for art or love or happiness.' His calloused thumb stroked his cheek, and he grinned, wistful and faraway yet blazing. 'We're not able to change the whole world, Lukas. But Berlin has changed before, and we can change it again.'

Lukas held his hand tighter and promised, promised to change their worlds.

 **0o0o0o**

 ** _:: Learning the new steps of dancing or life_**


	10. Chapter 10

Mathias had promised to bring Lukas into the real planning soon. _Tomorrow_. He'd promised him an endless tomorrow, a whole future. He was giddy with it. Lukas Bondevik, now a resistance fighter just like him. He'd love it, Mathias _knew_ he would. It was terrifying and exhilarating, knowing you could change the world.

He pushed the door to the bar open, stretching out his muscles from the ride. Lukas had kissed him goodbye when he'd dropped him off, smiled in that perfect way when Mathias felt his ears heat. He was getting all sentimental, and that was okay. The words of the song twirled through him again, _the kind of love I can't live without_...

He recognized the figure slumped over the counter. Antonio must have gotten back from his afternoon with the bartender early. Mathias raked fingers through his sweaty hair with a disbelieving chuckle, not even _knowing_ where to start.

'Toni,' he said breathlessly. 'You won't _believe_ what happened with me and-'

The light fell over his friend's crumpled form, eyes glassy and blank, tears staining his face. Mathias' warmth drained away instantly as he rushed to him.

He was a wreck close up. The look in his eyes was dead and dull, haunted, like the soldiers in too much pain to think, chasing the last dregs of vodka. His eyelashes fluttered, and he laughed, the sound broken. Mathias took the bottle away, noticing with a sick twist of his stomach how many others piled up around him.

'Antonio, what's wrong?' he insisted, finally catching the blurry slide of his gaze. Antonio finally stirred, blinking and pained.

'Romano's an agent,' he whispered, hand drifting over his heart, body swaying with the memory of a sweeter song than this. For a moment his eyes flashed lucid and helpless and _wanting_. 'His name is...Lovino.'

For a horrible moment, it all sunk in and all Mathias could think of was the night that Gilbert came back, the night _Lovino_ had seen everything they were. His friend was a shell in his hands because of it. Their whole cause could be in danger and it was all Lovino's fault, _Mathias'_ fault. Antonio gripped his hand, desperate, and he barely roused to look down; already thinking of ways to get out of this, ways to save them, ways to _pay back that turncoat traitor_ -

'The resistance is safe. I made sure.'

'And you _believed_ him?' Mathias scoffed, glaring down at him. Antonio always was a romantic. 'He just told you- all of that?'

'Yes,' Antonio insisted, painful and lost. Mathias _hated_ that, hated seeing the pain on his face, hated knowing someone had hurt one of his closest friends, his best fighters. He jerked himself away with a snarl. He needed to work. He needed to plan and _act_ , he needed to get so blazingly drunk he could forget that broken expression on Antonio's face. He wanted Lukas' steadiness and his solid trustworthiness so much.

 _Lukas_. For a moment, a breath, his thoughts caught onto that. Lukas with his beautiful pale eyes, cold beauty and a colder smile, slipping his knife into Mathias' ribs.

He shook it away. He wouldn't need to go that far. Mathias' heart was already his. If Lukas wasn't safe, then nobody was. Mathias trusted Lukas, so much, and that made everything dangerous.

'This is all my fault.' He wanted to pace and rage and lunge at things, wanted a broken beer bottle in one hand and Gilbert's pale strength under the other, he _needed_ Lukas, always him. His lips peeled back from his teeth, furious at everything and himself. 'God. Never should have let us fall in love.'

'He's good,' he heard Antonio insist, sounding lost again. Mathias didn't spare him more than a glance.

'Go home, Toni. Come back when you've got your head on right.' He held his tongue over the rest of the words, that Antonio had a knack of falling for all the wrong people, for traitors-

'Don't hurt him,' Antonio whispered. 'Please. I think- I _know_ he's different.' He made a broken noise, like a sob, one he'd never heard before from someone like him and never wanted to again. 'Mathias.'

-and that he couldn't stop loving them even when he should. Mathias closed his eyes against the flash of memory, pale and red and _winged_.

'I told you to go home.'

Mathias hunched over his papers, head aching. His swan necklace, his protection, slipped out of his ragged shirt. _Not much use against protecting my heart from you, Lukas_ , he thought, and put it away again with too much vehemence. Finally, Antonio staggered out, and Mathias crumpled forwards over his useless scribblings, eyes stinging, throat thick, unable to breathe. It was too much, it was always too much, but he could never stop fighting. He was their Kalmar, their leader, their firebrand until that impossible future was here.

He had to keep going, until the end. For Lukas if nothing else.

0o0o0o

Mathias could barely focus on his scribbled plans. He'd been managing things since before Gilbert left them, but it didn't make it any easier. Still, he kept working. It was the only way he knew how to help anyone, Antonio or himself.

Leon, the boy, laid a hand on his arm, sliding him a plate of food. Soviet rations, but Mathias was ravenous. He was halfway through before he remembered the boy was still beside him. His stomach twisted with guilt. There was always guilt with him. Just a _boy_ , he shouldn't be with them, but he had nobody else to go to.

'Hey, kid,' he said, trying a smile. Leon smiled and shuffled closer, body easy and relaxed. He was looking a lot better now. 'What do you need?'

'You told me to come get you once it was almost three.' He grinned. 'Said you need to go get someone you were bringing in.'

The mention of that jolted Mathias wonderfully awake. He laughed and pushed his papers away for now.

'I did, didn't I?' He gently nudged his shoulder, careful of bruises. They were healing up well. 'If you promise me you'll put away my notes once I go, I'll tell you a little more about him.'

Leon nodded eagerly. He'd been on Mathias nearly all day yesterday for more details. 'Promise.'

Mathias kept eating, only now appreciating how hungry he had been before. 'He's amazing. Brilliant, deserves a lot better than this. He's real funny, too, it just takes a while to get it, but when you do...' Mathias could barely stop talking long enough to force himself to eat. 'His smile is _everything_ and his laugh is the best thing. He's beautiful, and he's _brave_. He's gonna bring in a better future. My Lukas.'

Leon sat up straighter beside him, and Mathias ruffled his hair affectionately, pushing his plate away. 'Remember how I told you to store my notes. Don't lose my pens, either, you hear? I'll be back soon.'

He ran out and swung onto his cycle, luxuriating in the rumble of the engine, in the sun and the sky and the wind that made him feel like he was flying. His swan jingled around his neck.

His thoughts turned to Antonio again, who he'd checked on, sleeping off the shock in the rambling old buildings. He was secretly glad he wasn't around to see Lukas come in. It would have been too much, too soon. Too different. Lukas, too- he wouldn't need to know yet.

He stopped in front of the stop where Lukas was waiting. Even with his face tucked into his scarf, Mathias could recognize his smile. He barely remembered to pop the kickstand before bounding over to him.

'Hey, darlin',' he said, grinning too much to say more. Lukas' eyes sparkled.

'I see you brought your death machine to escort me to my initiation.' He fixed Mathias' collar, face wonderfully open with soft love. Mathias adored him. He trusted him so much. This would not be a bad thing, this would not end like Antonio and Lovino.

'You don't need an initiation if someone's already checked you out.'

Lukas raised a playful eyebrow. 'And how was I?'

'The best. We're electing you as our new leader in respect.' Mathias glanced down the street and stepped closer, leaning into his side to press a quick kiss to his neck. It was dangerous in public, but if he didn't kiss Lukas right then he thought he might have burst from love.

Lukas gazed up at him and shook his head with a smile.

'You don't even have an initiation, do you.'

'Not at all,' Mathias agreed cheerfully, climbing onto his _death machine_. Lukas sat close behind him and rested his head on his shoulder.

'Onwards,' he said, lips at his neck. Mathias shivered, leaning into it.

'Onwards, to our victory.'

They stood in front of the bar and Mathias found himself reaching for Lukas' hand automatically. This place was a free area to him, a place where he could finally breathe properly, but he didn't know if he could allow himself this. Their rule was no love, no connections, nobody outside that would hurt for them.

But Lukas was in the resistance now.

Gloved fingers wound in his. Lukas' gaze was even, but Mathias could read all his understanding there.

'They're going to think you're playing favourites,' he warned.

'It won't be easy to deny it. You are my favourite.' He grinned. 'Not that I've gotten with anyone else in there like I have with you, but if I had I'd still say the same.'

'You don't need to try to be charming anymore,' he teased, squeezing his hand.

'You know something? I think we'll be the first time there's been anything like this.' He nodded to the door. 'You're resistance now. That means this is allowed. At least here.'

Lukas rolled his eyes at him, the tense set of his shoulders softening. 'We're the first for a lot of things. We better make it good.'

Mathias pushed open the door and the talk fell away. The bar was smoky and amber and warm, and full to bursting with fight and fire. Mathias loved it more than anything.

'Welcome to the resistance,' he announced. Slowly, his people began to cheer, and he drank in the noise, proud. Beside him, Lukas lifted his chin, smiling. People gathered around them as they sat at the bar.

'What's your code name?' Mathias urged. Lukas considered.

'Alv.'

He recognized the reference with a grin. The mythical creature suited him. 'I like it.'

Lukas turned to the growing crowd to introduce himself as the new recruit. Mathias knew they understood their relationship, but it didn't matter if they were both resistance. He never wanted to let go of Lukas' hand. This gentle openness of their love was something he'd been craving forever without knowing.

Finally, he had to, because Leon was bringing him his notes again. He gratefully reached for them, already turning over a new idea to implement around the prison.

'Thanks, kid,' he said. Leon didn't move or answer, stock-still and staring at Lukas. Instinctively, Mathias reached for his hand, and Lukas glanced away from his conversation with another man.

'What's wr-' He stopped, silent, eyes fixed on Leon's face before suddenly dropping to a band of red around his wrist. Mathias saw Leon mouth his name.

He immediately stood up and glanced at the door to the back closet, needing to talk about whatever this was. They both understood, and he handed Leon his notes again as he fended off questions with assurances that he needed another pen.

0o0o0o

Lukas shut the door to the small, cramped closet, unable to believe his eyes. He couldn't believe he was actually in the resistance, actually able to _help_ , with Mathias- and he couldn't believe that Leon was here. Seeing him in the middle of the bar had been a cold shock. He knew Leon had _something_ that he stayed with when he wasn't at Lukas' place, but never thought he was with this.

He turned to him to say so, but Leon's eyes were already wide with panic.

'How am I going to tell him about Emil?' he asked desperately. 'You know that if we love someone, they could get hurt. Kalmar is always worried about _me_ , I don't want him to think I'm irresponsible. He'll be angry.'

'He won't get angry at you,' Lukas said.

'Promise?'

Lukas ached more at that. Promises were worth more than blood here, and he wanted to make this one, this small and simple fulfillment. The trust that Mathias was good, trustworthy, that he already understood how love was in this split city. 'I promise. He fell in love with me before I joined. And I did for him.'

Leon's mouth twitched faintly upwards. 'He was talking about you earlier. He loves you.'

'I love him.' Lukas wiped a smear of dirt off the boy's cheek above the bruises. 'You have to tell him everything, Leon.'

'I know.'

Leon stepped away as Mathias joined them, flushed. He rubbed his thumb along his swan necklace, running a hand through the wild scruff of his hair. Lukas saw Leon straighten beside him, shoulders square like a soldier.

'Lukas. Leon. Do you two know each other?' He glanced between them, eyes soft and concerned for both of them. 'Well, I can see that you do, but I need to know how. If it's some bad blood, I promise I won't set you up on the same missions. I just need to know.'

'No!' Leon burst out. 'It's not a grudge or anything, I promise.' He glanced at Lukas and took a deep breath. 'I'm...with his younger brother. His name is Emil.'

Mathias' eyes widened. 'That's what it is?'

'Leon's been staying with me some days,' Lukas interjected. 'He told me that he'd had something to stay with, but I didn't think it was...this.'

'Yeah. I know.' He glanced up at him, pain weighting the lines of his face, but it was hidden again as soon as he looked at Leon. A perfect leader and perfect soldier. 'Listen, Leon-'

'I'm not leaving this,' Leon defended. 'You and Emil are the best things I've got.'

Mathias looked taken aback for a moment before he shook his head. 'God, you've got so much fire. You're too much like me.'

'That's a good thing,' Leon defended.

Mathias ignored it. 'You do understand why I'm cautious of letting you stay. For Emil's sake.'

'I know.' Leon pressed his lips together. 'But I can't let him join. He wanted to when I told him about it, but-' He fumbled for a moment. 'But I _couldn't_. I'm not letting him get in danger. If I do well, I won't get caught. He'll be safe.'

'Oh, we all get caught in the end,' Mathias murmured. Leon looked guiltily at Lukas, standing beside Mathias.

'I didn't mean to imply…'

'No, you're right.' Lukas ruffled his hair gently, hoping he looked stronger than he felt. 'Remember, we're doing this for Emil now. You understand?'

Leon gazed up at them both, eyes wide, before dipping his head.

'I understand,' he said, voice steady. He left and closed the door behind him. Beside him, Mathias slumped.

'Lukas,' he said brokenly. Lukas leaned up to kiss his hair, staring into the flickering candlelight.

'He spoke of this great thing when he was with me. The only thing that made sense in the city to him.' He nodded, eyes closing, wanting to slip away into the soft circles Mathias' hands were making on his back. 'It makes sense.'

'You're taking care of him? Helping him out?' Mathias asked urgently. 'I know I'm- God, I _know_ I'm not good at helping people who need a gentle touch. I barely know what to do for myself, let alone a kid.'

'I'm helping him.' Lukas knew there was no way to dissuade any of them, Mathias or Leon or him, even though they all wanted to protect each other so much. 'It seems like I'm a lot further into this than I expected.'

'You are.' Mathias turned to kiss him properly, soft and gentle. 'Does it bother you?'

'Not really. More incentive to do well, I suppose, if we ever needed it before.' He felt himself smile wryly. 'My incentive was always keeping Emil safe. He's a good kid. Deserves better.'

'That's what we're fighting for.'

Lukas knew they had to go out soon, but for a moment they were alone and safe. 'I told the kids- Leon and Emil- about you. Not your name, but that we were...us.'

'Us,' he echoed with that wonderful smile. Lukas _wanted_ , wanted this hint of family. They deserved a bit of happiness even now, didn't they?

'You could come over some day if you wanted. It's not much, but it might be nice.'

Mathias laughed and picked him up to twirl.

'That sounds amazing,' he said, smiling broadly.

 **0o0o0o**

 ** _:: The hum of perfect machinery_**


	11. Chapter 11

It was a while until Mathias could get a free day, but he didn't mind. Lukas had promised he'd wait for him, as long as it took, to show him safety and _family_ , something he hadn't had in ages. Long enough that he'd almost forgotten what it would be like.

He'd let Leon go early. The kid was brilliant at planning, but he was still a kid, and Mathias wanted him to have the best time he could. He cleaned up his notes with Lukas, comfortable and warm, humming the end of a song he'd grown to love. Here, they were safe. Here, Mathias could twirl him into his arms and kiss him and Lukas could kiss him back as much as they both wanted. It was amazing, and he was giddy with it.

'We're taking your death machine again?' Lukas asked, climbing on. Mathias' heart fluttered at the gentle tease in his voice.

'You like it. You're starting to like it, right?'

'I like _you_ ,' Lukas corrected, kissing his cheek before Mathias gunned the engine again.

They eased to a stop in front of an old house, tall and stripped bare of paint. The clean, dark boards showed through. Lukas unlocked the door and Mathias breathed in the clean scent.

'This is mine,' Lukas said. His brow furrowed, gloved hands twitching closer to fists. 'It's old, I know. It was what I could afford. It's not quite like your artists' den.'

'I love it.' It felt like family, like warmth. Lukas smiled, honest and open, and Mathias swept him up in another kiss, loving the fingers tangling in his hair through the snarls of knots.

When they could both breathe again, Lukas led him through into the living room. Leon glanced up at him with a grin from where he was putting the pillows and blankets strewn over the floor back to their rightful place on the couch, hair and clothes ruffled, looking very pleased with himself.

The other boy caught his gaze and his face flushed deep red. Mathias was surprised to see him without his puffin neckerchief, and even more surprised to see him here.

'You're taking in _all_ the resistance boys, aren't you?' he ribbed, nudging Lukas in the ribs. Lukas shot upright, eyes wide and openly _shocked_ for the first time, sending a jolt of cold adrenaline through him.

'What?'

'I thought…' His voice failed, cold horror coiling in his stomach. He looked towards the second boy again, just for a moment, but Lukas' gaze hardened until he looked like he was carved from steel. He grabbed the boy's arm. As soon as they were standing next to each other, Mathias' stomach dropped. The boy who had reminded him so much of Lukas, with their ethereal, ghostly hair and eyes, now looked as if he was…

'Mathias,' Lukas said, tone flat and emotionless. 'This is my little brother, Emil Bondevik.'

Oh, _God_.

Emil glanced up at him, face flushed with anger and shame and twisted up with fear. Lukas pushed him towards the rough table, his own pale cheeks pinking with anger.

'Sit down, Emil.'

His chin jutted out, but his voice shook. 'It's none of your business what I do.'

'It is his business,' Mathias cut in, and Emil's fierce pride- _so much like his brother's_ , and he felt even worse- failed for a moment. He sat down and buried his face in his hands. Lukas' shoulders shook, and Mathias wished he could comfort him. His hands felt heavy with so much blood.

'I'm sorry,' he said under his breath, knowing it wasn't enough. 'I didn't know- I shouldn't have let him join. He's gone now, I promise, I told you.'

Lukas pressed his lips together. His eyes reflected the lights, liquid with unshed tears.

'It's not your fault,' he soothed, too forgiving of all of Mathias' mistakes. He turned towards Leon, who stood there like a hunted animal, tense and fearful.

'You don't have to listen to this,' Lukas said. Behind them, Emil curled further into his hands.

'I should stay,' Leon whispered, shoulders crumpling in, not able to meet their eyes. He sat down beside Emil and took his hand.

Lukas sat down across from them and Mathias followed. He wondered if he was the only one who could see the tremble of terror in his jaw, and took his hand, both of them holding on to keep from breaking. Mathias felt like he would break under the weight of guilt.

'Emil,' Lukas began.

'I know!' Emil's hands were bleached white at the knuckles, clenched into fists, voice trembling with tears. 'I know, it was stupid and I could have gotten hurt. But you never _trust_ me, you never think I'm anything more than a fucking _kid!_ I'm tired of watching Berlin like this, Lukas. I wanted to do something good.'

He still had so much fire, so much spirit. Mathias held Lukas' hand tighter and closed his eyes, feeling like he'd crack open. He squeezed his hand back.

'You can't change the entire world, Emil,' Lukas said tiredly. 'And you _don't_ know. You could have died.'

'I didn't even get to go on a mission.' Emil looked at Mathias again. 'Kalmar made me leave.'

'I'm glad I did,' Mathias whispered. 'If you had died under my watch-'

'I wouldn't have!'

'You don't know that!' Mathias found himself on his feet, the world blurring through tears. 'You told me you didn't have anyone else. This isn't all about you. This is about your brother seeing you die! Or Leon! Did you ever wonder why I wouldn't have let someone join if they had people to come back to?'

Emil flinched, sinking even further down on himself. 'He said it would be okay if we were both in the resistance…'

For a second, it didn't make sense. And then it all fell together, Leon's expression and his guilt and before he could stop himself, Mathias was turning on his favourite subordinate.

'You _knew?'_ he roared. Leon crumpled, eyes wide with horrible guilt and shining with tears. 'You knew he had a brother and you told him about us?'

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' he pleaded.

'Don't apologize to _me_ ,' Mathias snarled. 'Either of you. It's Lukas who would have had to read about your deaths in the newspapers.'

Lukas suddenly gripped his hand, nails digging in, and Mathias awoke as if from a haze, his anger falling away. Lukas didn't say anything, but his eyes were quiet and pained, and he realized all over again that he was wrong. He'd brought Lukas into the resistance to assuage his own guilt, not ever thinking of anyone else. He sunk back into his chair and let go of his hand, too guilty and ashamed of himself to allow himself that gentle touch any longer.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'Fuck. That was- that was completely wrong of me. All of this.' He raked a hand through his hair. 'I'm not fit to be a leader.'

'Don't say that,' Leon said, ever loyal. 'You're right to be mad at us.'

'I'm not mad at you.' Mathias sighed and sat up, resting his hands palms-up on the wooden table, gathering his words. 'I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you two. I know you're trying your best. Leon, you're one of my best and bravest, and I know love is your blind spot. It's mine, too.' He looked over to Lukas, who smiled slightly. 'Emil, your brother is trying to keep you safe. I don't regret making you leave, but I know you're just as brave. You kids are the future, and you'll change the world. But not today, and you won't die with this resistance as long as I'm leader.'

Leon smiled, eyes fluttering slightly. 'I get it. You're still my leader, Kalmar.'

'Yeah,' Emil agreed. Mathias pretended not to have seen when he turned to smear tears away with the back of his hand.

'I especially shouldn't have shouted since you're right about it. If we're both in the resistance, it's fine.' He let Lukas take his hand again.

Emil's reddened eyes suddenly widened. 'Lukas is in the resistance?'

'Just inducted him recently.'

'Then it's obvious.' Emil sat forward. 'You can let me join now.'

'Absolutely not,' both of them said in unison. Emil's mouth fell open, glancing between them in betrayal.

'What?' He accusingly pointed around. 'You said it yourself. It's not bad if you only love someone who the Stasi can't get to. Leon? You get it, right?'

He opened his mouth, and then sunk down.

Emil desperately rounded on Mathias. 'The Stasi won't get me! I'm strong, I'll be smart when I fight. If I'm in, we're invincible.'

 _We're invincible_ , Gilbert had crowed, arms spread, a starlit supernova in the smoky bar, grinning down at his resistance. Mathias had believed him.

'There's no such thing as invincible in Berlin,' he said tiredly.

'We'll be closer to it,' Emil insisted stubbornly. Lukas shook his head.

'No, Emil. That's final.'

His eyes brimmed with tears again. 'I want to _help_.'

'No. Do you know why? Because if I die out there, Mathias will take care of you both. If you die, Emil, what's left of us?' Lukas sounded so tired. 'I will not let you die.'

And finally Emil broke. His brave posture crumpled and he sunk down in sobs. They gathered around him, holding Leon tighter when he surrendered the same way. In the cramped kitchen, around the worn wooden table, they become something like a family. Mathias loved them all, loved them so fiercely it hurt. They were flawed and broken and fatal, hopeful artists in a war city, but they were a family. He held Lukas' hand tighter and promised that he'd keep them all safe, even if it killed him.

0o0o0o

Mathias had forgotten what a family was like. He'd been living like a wild animal, hunting and hunted thing for so long, always planning and thinking and trying to keep one step ahead of the Soviets, trying to keep so many people safe, that he'd forgotten what this was like.

Emil got him in the head again with his pillow and he went down again, spitting out the taste of fabric.

'Hey!' He lunged for him, picking him up and easily slinging him over his shoulders. The kid's body was so light, and he wondered if he could cook something better for dinner tonight. Emil laughed, kicking him playfully in the side.

'It's not my fault you're so busy staring at my brother you can't defend yourself,' he teased. Lukas' mouth twitched into a smile from where he was reading at the table.

'Naw, it's because you've got a two against one advantage,' Mathias said, dropping him in their pillow fort made of couch cushions and grabbing for Leon right before he got him with another pillow. 'Ha! And I can still win.'

'No shit, you're like, eight years older,' Leon said, rolling his eyes. Mathias brought his pillow down on his head.

'Language!'

'Coming from you,' Lukas whispered to him out of the corner of his mouth. Mathias couldn't help leaning up and kissing him, so both the kids got him with a double attack.

He could hear Lukas laughing, bright and wild and so heart-stoppingly lovely that he didn't even mind being pinned under a couch cushion. It was pried off and Lukas pulled him up, kissing him again. His face was flushed and his eyes were alight and Mathias loved him so much, he thought he might ignite and turn into stardust, right then and there sprawled on the carpet in the middle of the sunlit living room.

'You're not allowed to be so pretty,' Mathias scolded. 'You're giving them another advantage. I don't like fighting battles when I already know I'm gonna lose.'

He rolled his eyes fondly. 'Fine. I'll be on your team next round. How about that?'

'Much better,' Mathias decided with a grin. He was leaning in to kiss him again when Emil lunged in and got Lukas in the face with a pillow, cackling. He looked so stunned and his hair was messy around the cross pin and Mathias couldn't help laughing uproariously and kissing him.

Emil grinned at them both and climbed up to stand swaying on the pile of cushions and blankets, face flushed, eyes bright. He looked happy. They were all happy.

'Once all this is over, we're all gonna go to Iceland together,' he declared. 'Lukas used to take me there, he understands.'

'I do,' Lukas agreed, smiling up at his little brother. Emil beamed.

'We'll watch the sun rise over the sea and the lakes and I can show you the best places to go to eat and if you want we can go to that one museum-'

He babbled on, joyful and euphoric, Leon looking up at him with shining eyes. Mathias leaned against Lukas' side, smiling.

'Almost feels like we're a family,' he said, barely daring to voice it. Lukas squeezed his hand and gave him that lovely secret smile.

'We are.'

Mathias laughed and twirled him up, falling in love all over again.

0o0o0o

Lukas' bed was cramped and full of blankets and Mathias loved it. He rested his head against Lukas' shoulder, pressing the ghosts of kisses to his neck. Lukas chuckled softly, fingers weaving through his hair, their bodies close in every way.

'I know there's not a lot of room.'

'I don't mind,' Mathias joked, unable to keep from grinning. 'In fact, I'd say it's better this way.'

'You would.' Lukas' breathing was slow and soft. 'I used to have a spare mattress, but Leon's using it, and I don't trust my brother if it's taken away.'

'Says you,' Mathias whispered, raising his eyebrows and hiding his smile with another, open-mouthed kiss to his shoulder.

'We're different,' Lukas said warmly.

'Not that different.'

Lukas laughed. He looked happy, calm and free. 'We're all the same in love.'

They laid together, trading wondering kisses. Mathias had time now, in the palest greys, to see him and adore every part.

'You've got freckles,' he whispered, brushing his thumb across the starspots of them across his cheeks, hands shaking slightly with love. They were grey and silver against his pale skin, against his pale, fine hair. 'You're beautiful.'

'You flirt.'

'You are!' Mathias nuzzled closer. The more he looked at him, the more Lukas took his breath away. He truly did for the idea of some frozen ghost of different, magical times, drifting through snow-capped mountains. In the moonlight, he was ethereal. 'God, how did I get you, darlin'?'

'I could say the same.'

'That's easier to answer.' Mathias' hand drifted down to the jutting bones of his hips, drawing closer, closer. 'Because even after everything, you never left.'

Lukas pulled him closer, losing themselves to slow and wonderful heat. 'It's because I love you, you know.'

'I love you too,' Mathias whispered, adoring, leaning down to kiss him properly, and they fell together.

 **0o0o0o**

 _ **:: Watching snowfall from inside a moonlit bedroom in the morning**_


End file.
